Different Shades of Red
by RavenStagETR
Summary: What if Abigail Hobbs had died that day? What if it gave Hannibal the idea that he could have someone to mold. What if that someone was practically gift wrapped for him, and all but topped with a big red bow?
1. We Won't Lie To Each Other

"Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal excused himself from the group he was standing with to move off to the side with the very concerned looking woman. Lily was a neighbor, she and her family lived across the street from him. While her husband had seemed to be enjoying himself, talking about his next book, bragging how one of his wife's students was to play the lead in the Nutcracker this season, and about their daughter's ability with the violin, Lily had spent the night looking all but distraught in-between the forced smiles of a supposed to be delighted wife.

"Is something the matter?" Hannibal asked, mindful to keep his voice down. Lily constantly worried about nearly everything, no reason to exacerbate it by letting others get involved. If he thought she'd take the advice he'd suggest therapy… with anyone but him. Lily had the potential to be worse than Franklyn, but thankfully he wasn't sure because she was not his patient.

"It's Charlie… Charlotte…"

"Your daughter," Hannibal supplied when she seemed flustered.

She nodded, insisting, "Charlie hasn't been acting right. Heath doesn't think it's serious, that she's just being a moody teen, but it's not… it's not the same. I know those students from her school were murdered, but I don't think that's the problem, she doesn't seem like she's grieving… I don't know how to explain it, but she's acting differently."

Someone was hunting uncomfortably close to his home, but Hannibal let it go as the victims were teenagers. Teens were not often on his radar, let alone his menu. There were some exceptions… "I've only met Charlotte a few brief times, but she already seemed like a quiet girl, Lily," Hannibal tried to console her, just not well. Making her feel better wasn't his intention, so he said something that just wasn't quite helpful enough.

Since the death of the Hobbs girl over a month ago, he'd noticed the teen living across the street more and more. He'd met her before, and she seemed well mannered. As such he politely acknowledged her when necessary, but largely left her be. If he was ever outside in the morning when she started her trek to school she'd nod at him, or give the smallest of waves. Now he made a point to leave for work around the time she left for school more often. Sometimes he thought after reasons to walk across the street and talk to her instead of her parents. However, when he came up with this party, deciding to invite her parents in person, she had not been the one to answer the door. Instead, he'd been able to hear Ode to Joy coming from somewhere else in the house, and well, her father had reason to boast.

"She is, but there's a difference between being soft spoken and not talking at all. I don't think I've heard more than ten sentences from her in two weeks. She won't tell me what's wrong, she just shrugs it off saying that she's fine," Lily explained. "Know I'm being generous by saying _I'm fine_ is a sentence. I'm joining Heath on a short book tour after my student's first performance soon, and we won't be back until Christmas Eve. I don't think I can leave her, with how she's been acting."

Hannibal frowned, but he wanted to grin. Lily would just hand over her daughter for inspection it seemed. Better there was potentially time he could meet her without her parents meddling "I can get my appointment book, find a time that's good for both of us," Hannibal offered gently.

"She… she refused when I suggested she see you," Lily explained carefully, as though she were afraid to offend him. "I thought maybe she'd be okay with it at first, when she didn't disappear into the house when you came to talk to us about the symphony two weeks ago. She seems to like you, but she froze when I talked about setting up an appointment."

"Perhaps a more subtle approach," Hannibal suggested as he tried to think of how to help Lily along. There was no graceful way to suggest he spend time alone with her daughter outside of his office. If Lily had managed to get Charlotte into therapy, he was sure that she'd still be in the waiting room the entire time. In all honesty, Hannibal was surprised that Lily let the girl walk to school on her own. Was surprised the girl wasn't a dancer so she'd be under mommy's watchful eye even while the woman was at work

Lily frowned for a moment, before an idea lit up her eyes. "Perhaps, if it's not too much trouble, you could drive her to school for a bit. It's a short ride, but maybe you could warm her up to the idea of seeing you for therapy. I'd pay you for your time still."

Hannibal smiled. It'd do for now. Still, best not to seem too eager. "It's not too much trouble, but I don't think that Charlie would accept a ride from me if I just offered one morning, even if I do live across the street." It was a good thing she was wary, he just didn't want her to be wary of him.

Lily waved her hand dismissively, "I'll tell her it's because I don't want her walking to school anymore, there is a murderer on the loose, and I really don't want her to walk by herself, but she's so stubborn. She actually woke up a half hour early just to slip out of the house before I woke up when I told her I'd drive her. If I told her you'd be waiting for her though, she'd be too afraid you would think her rude to stand you up."

Hannibal nodded. "Then I'll drive her to school all next week," he paused thinking about it. He didn't want to push her too far, "If after that she's still against it, you'll need to find a different way, if you don't want to force her." That was the other option, making her. He'd be able to work with it either way. After all he wouldn't be the one dragging her into his office.

oOo

Hannibal walked out the door when he was told that Charlotte would be there. He was almost surprised to see her already moving across the street towards him. When she looked back from down the road to find him she moved a little faster. They stopped near his car and she immediately told him, "I-I'm sorry that my mom got you to do this, I can walk to school. You really don't have to do this."

The smile that quirked his lips up almost took him by surprise. She stood there holding her violin case to her chest, obviously hiding behind it. Her backpack hung more precariously on one shoulder. She was definitely a Charlie with her thick dark blonde curls and waves, and murky blue eyes that bordered on green. Shaking his head, he said, careful to be gentle, but firm enough to imply she didn't have a say in the matter, "I would like to do this for you."

"But you don't have to," Charlie tried to dissuade him, taking a step back as though to walk away.

"Charlie." Hannibal chided her firmly, getting her to freeze where she stood. "I told your mother I would drive you to school." He left it unsaid that it was happening. Her shoulder's slumped and she nodded quickly. When he motioned to the car she walked around to the passenger seat on her own.

 _Good girl._

It wasn't until they were almost there that she admitted, "I don't want you to be my therapist, or psychologist… or whatever the proper term is."

Hannibal glanced over at Charlie to see her worrying her lip as she regarded him. Looking back out at the road he asked, "Why not?"

Charlie ran her fingers over the metal seam of her violin case that sat between her legs on the floor as she thought on how to answer. Looking back over to Hannibal she tried to reason, "My mother is just overreacting. My father is right, being a moody teenager is not a reason to need therapy."

"You are right," Hannibal conceded to her point. Another glance in her direction told him that wasn't something she got to hear often as she looked at him with wide eyes. "Unless your age has nothing to do with why you won't talk to anyone."

"I'm talking to you…" Charlie mumbled at him. She knew why she was, she couldn't even pretend. She needed her mom to lay off. She needed to not be forced into this man's office for the rest of forever. Maybe if she talked to him now she wouldn't have to later.

Hannibal nodded as he pulled to a stop at the red light before the school "You are, so is it that you're upset with your parents?" Blunt was going to have to be the tactic of the day. She was responding to it at least, and they were running out of time before she'd be able to flee the car for school.

"I'm not upset with them, they haven't done anything," Charlie shrugged as she leaned back into the seat. She kept her eyes forward on the car in front of them.

Perhaps that was the problem, but he didn't want her to feel like she was already in his office, so he kept the thought to himself. "Your mother is just worried about you," Hannibal said as he glanced at her for a second when they started moving again.

"She's always worried," Charlie sighed with a shake of her head as they got closer to the school. She turned her eyes back down onto her case when they hit the morning traffic in front of the school. Sometimes Charlie felt like her mom enjoyed worrying about everything. That in some way it made her happy to drag others into her worrying.

Hannibal made an agreeable noise. He knew Lily worried worse than any mother hen. In all reality, he knew it was the mother that needed the therapy, but it was the daughter that held his interest. He much rather spend an hour listening to Charlie even if it turned out she wasn't what he was looking for. So, in the spirit of spending more than five minutes a day with her an idea surged to the forefront of his mind. She might say no, but it was worth a try. A last-ditch effort as he pulled to a stop along the curb with countless other people dropping off students. "What if you came to therapy, just to ease her worries? Two nights a week for a month. After that I'll tell her you are indeed just a normal teenager, that moodiness is a part of growing up, and therapy isn't really any use to you."

Charlie paused before she could take her seatbelt off, her eyes flying up to him. She frowned a bit. Was it a bad idea to go along with him? There were things she wanted to keep to herself. What if he got her to talk to him more than this? What if he backed out on the deal and told her mom she really did need therapy? Just not responding to him didn't seem like an option as he watched her expectantly. It wasn't like with her parents where she could pawn them off on a few indistinct noises as answers. She decided to steer him from the idea saying, "I don't think I have eight hours' worth of things to say."

"I'm sure we'll find something to hold our interest," Hannibal chuckled even as she unbuckled her seatbelt, and retrieved her backpack from the back seat. "So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Charlie clutched at her bag for a moment looking at the object like it had the answers. It didn't though. "Two nights a week for a month?" Charlie asked peeking at him again. She supposed it wouldn't be so bad to spend time with him as long as he stuck with the deal.

"I think it'll benefit us both. Your mother will be secure in the knowledge that she has a _normal_ teen and stop pestering you, and she'll stop trying to conspire with me to get you in my office. After a month, unless you feel you'd like to keep going, you can stop," Hannibal nodded. "If you feel like it isn't helping I'll keep it to myself about the agreed upon time limit and tell your mother what I said I would."

"Even if it's a lie?" Charlie prodded, fully looking at him now. She needed to know if she could trust him.

"We won't lie to each other," Hannibal told her seriously, making sure he'd caught her eye. "If you feel like it's helping, but don't want your mother poking around we'll arrange something else."

Charlie felt her heart race a bit as they sat there looking at each other. To hide how nervous she felt, she nodded, "Deal. Two nights a week for a month and then you tell her there's nothing wrong with me… are you still going to drive me to school all week?"

"I already told your mother I would," Hannibal told her with a grin.

* * *

Hi all! Alrighty, so I did want to give you all a heads up, though it might not be super clear right this second, but this is a rewrite of a story I wrote on another account on this site called My Beginning. I ended up taking it down because I wrote myself into a corner. (Sometimes the downside of showing things as you write them, you can't just go "pretend this happened instead" so you can keep writing from where you are.) I did change the girl's name from Billie to Charlie, but later in the story things will sort of collide and people who read the other story will all start having a vague since of deja vu and I wanted tell everyone before that happened.

For everyone else who has no clue what I'm talking about at all HI AGAIN! The plot bunnies crawled their way from their pushed aside folder and this happened! This takes place somewhere in the first season, of course after the death of Abigail Hobbs, or well in the show it was her near death, in this fic she actually died. There's some other markers in the story that show where we are relative to the show, but some things will be changed while others are kept the same. I'm not out to just add a character into the show and then start rewriting the episodes word for word. Of course some things will happen in this story that happened in the show, but you'll see. Hopefully it'll all be entertaining.

I'm always leery of writing things that change the base material, but we'll see how this goes, no?

Let me know what you think!


	2. Let's Play A Game

Tuesdays and Fridays.

Charlie fidgeted with her shirt a little as she sat in the waiting room her mother abandoned her in. Apparently, her mom had been encouraged to go get coffee or run errands when she had therapy. Charlie guessed it was to discourage her mother from trying to press her ear to the door. Charlie ran her fingers along her violin case with a sigh. Really it was a good thing her mother wasn't there, Charlie didn't think she'd be able to talk with her mother outside the door. It wouldn't do for her mother to realize they were up to something either.

A grumbling made Charlie press her hand to her stomach. She was hungry, but between homework, violin lessons, and now therapy her mom promised her something on their way home. Tuesdays were going to kill her.

She had a private tutor for extra lessons outside of school, and they were running longer and longer now that there was a chance she'd be able to join the orchestra for the ballet after the new year. It more than likely wouldn't be on her own merits, but instead as a favor to her tutor and mother, but she didn't want to embarrass herself. It'd be a good foot in the door if she really wanted to pursue this as a career.

At least Fridays would just be therapy, she'd definitely get something to eat then…

After politely depositing Franklyn out the private exit of his office Hannibal righted his things, pulled out the new notebook he'd gotten to write Charlie's notes in, and opened the door to the waiting room. He was gratified that Lily wasn't there, but he internally sighed at the thought that she'd gone to school all day, then she went to lessons, and now she was at his office. Her father talked about A's and B's, which meant she was on top of her homework. "Hello Charlie," Hannibal said, waving her into the room.

When did this child have time to eat?

He'd have to ask, but perhaps it'd wait till their ride together tomorrow morning. Today's ride had been much quieter than yesterday.

Charlie nodded and stood up saying, in return, "Hello Dr. Lecter." Once in the room he motioned her into a chair across from the one he took up himself. Charlie set her case down next to the chair before finally sitting down and looking at the man across from her. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't known what to say in the car this morning either, and while it had not been uncomfortable to sit in near silence this morning, she felt awkward now.

"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Hannibal asked when he knew she wouldn't talk on her own.

"I… I'm not sure what you want me to say," Charlie stammered. What were they supposed to talk about?

"Anything you'd like," Hannibal told her. When she fixed her gaze on her knees Hannibal smiled indulgently before he offered, "Perhaps a game then. I ask you questions, and you ask me questions. Only truthful answers. At least ten questions, each, a session. That way you don't feel as though I'm just taking from you."

Charlie looked back up at him at that. "I get the feeling that's not how therapy works."

"You seem to dislike the idea of therapy, so we'll treat this differently," Hannibal said as he propped his leg up on his knee. "We'll get to know each other over the next month. Then perhaps if you think you need a professional to speak to I can suggest someone for you to see."

"But not you," Charlie said, careful not to ask, she didn't want to accept his game just yet.

"I wouldn't suggest you stay under my care for the long term in any case, if only because you live across the street from me, and your parents and I frequent the same circles. Some might think it'd hinder my ability to be impartial towards you, and even if they didn't they might think me too much of a crutch living within shouting distance." Hannibal offered reasons he possibly couldn't treat her, but that wasn't what he wanted in the first place. This was just a convenient way for them to test the waters. On paper, she wasn't his patient. Just like Will wasn't his patient. "If we play this particular game I can't treat you."

After a moment, Charlie figured that might be best, and then she nodded. "Alright."

"You first," Hannibal offered.

"Why did you agree to drive me to school all week?" Charlie started with the question that had nagged her since she learned about the arrangement. She had thought about asking in the car this morning, but had decided against it.

"You interest me," Hannibal told her truthfully, just as he promised. "When your mother told me she was concerned about you, it furthered my interest, and so I agreed." He watched Charlie frown, but clicked his tongue at her when she went to ask another question. She immediately snapped her mouth shut, shrinking into her chair. When he was sure she was listening, he asked, "Why did you agree to come to therapy?"

"In the hopes that after you told her I was fine, that she'd believe you. A month of pretending to talk to you about my problems is better than years of her hovering suggesting I talk to you," Charlie explained before jumping on her next question. "What's so interesting about me?"

"I've recently started to consult with the FBI, and the first job I did, a girl a little older than you died while I was trying to save her. The next day you smiled and waved a bit at me, like you normally do, and suddenly I realized that I always noticed you, but I didn't know anything more than what your parents told me. It's hard not to wonder about someone you see nearly every day, but say nothing to." Hannibal explained what he could without sending her straight out the door. He didn't mention Will Graham. Maybe over the next month he would, but not now. Will was a different game, a different line of thought all together. While he could see them merging, it wouldn't be for some time.

"There are easier ways to talk to someone, than this," Charlie insisted, waving a hand around to indicate his office.

"We'll explore those options next month if you'd like," Hannibal smiled, amused, enjoying the smile that tugged at her lips. "Now, is there a reason your mood has shifted so noticeably? Regardless of whether you're willing to share it with me or not."

Charlie's smile faded and she bit her lip as she watched him. Her canine digging into her lower lip. A nervous tick she couldn't quite get over. His amused look had mellowed to one that reminded her that part of the game was giving truthful answers. Charlie got the feeling that there were actual consequences to cheating at this game. At least for her. Just what they were she could only imagine. Her whole body tensed but she pushed herself to answer, "Yes." Then afraid he might skip ahead to his next question she quickly asked, "Are you working on another case?"

After the case with the mushroom gardener Will hadn't been called back in, so he was currently just looking after Will's wellbeing during their sessions. Even then he hadn't been needed on any actual scenes during that case. Will had gotten worked up though, so it was possible that next time he'd be asked to go along. One more murder and it was likely whoever was picking off popular students at Charlie's high school would be the next job. "Not at this time," Hannibal answered simply before deciding which question to ask her. Best to go with his gut. "Is someone hurting you?"

Charlie shrunk down in her chair shaking her head. It was like his eyes darkened in that instant, like everything about him was sharper now. How could he seem so tall while sitting?

"Truthful answers," Hannibal insisted narrowing his eyes on her. It might not have been an outright lie, but he wasn't willing to accept sins of omission quite this early in the game. Not while they were so new to each other.

"I'm telling the truth. No one has _hurt_ me," Charlie insisted sitting back up straighter at basically being called a liar. Charlie frowned, and glanced over her shoulder to take in the harpsichord behind her before looking back at him asking, "Do you play?"

"I play many instruments, perhaps if you would like we'll trade, you can teach me to play the violin more competently, and I'll teach you the harpsichord." Hannibal offered even though he needed it to be his turn. Still, while he had entire symphonies down on the piano and harpsichord he could probably only play scales well on violin, he hadn't taken to the instrument when he was younger. Later when she could take their game or leave it he'd like something else they could bond over.

"I'd like that," Charlie nodded, even though she knew that meant it was his turn now.

"Does the way you said that mean that you just don't think that they hurt you enough to matter, or they haven't hurt you _yet_?" Hannibal asked with a deeper frown his leg coming down from his knee so he was sitting more attentively. So, he could take in more of her reaction.

Charlie watched him in little glances, but mostly she watched her hands fisted on her knees. "What if I don't answer the question?"

"I'm counting that as your next question I hope you know," Hannibal told her pointedly before he explained anyway, as she looked up at him with wide disbelieving eyes, "If you don't want to play our game I'll treat this as a real therapy session and as you're a minor I have to report any suspected abuse."

Charlie sat for a moment before insisting, disappointed, "You're going to take another question from me…"

"Probably," Hannibal nodded, curbing the smile he felt tugging at his lips. Now wasn't the time for smiling. It'd give her the wrong impression or, more to the point, the right one.

She sighed but still asked, "If I play the game you'll keep it to yourself?"

"For now," Hannibal nodded once more. "If we can't find a solution, I will have to tell someone, but not tonight." He had to keep her safe. At least the murderer wasn't after her class of student. Charlie was too quiet, from what her parents said, too solitary.

Moving around in her seat Charlie finally stood up, looking at him for a long moment. She could just leave. Call this whole thing off and deal with the fallout silently. In the end, though, she defeatedly sat back in the black leather chair. "Yet…" Charlie muttered. "They haven't hurt me yet."

"Who?" Hannibal pressed, even though he knew she might end the game anyway. He would not have faulted her for pacing, but he was glad she sat back down. She looked ready to bolt. If she had stayed standing she would have ran.

Instead Charlie just kept it vague, "A teacher."

Hannibal drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair in frustration as he thought about what question to ask. He knew she wouldn't give him a name. It was written all over her face. He had to plan this right to get the information he needed. They were running out of questions for today. Ten wasn't enough today… but it would have to be. He had to make sure she'd be safe when she left his office. "Do you have to spend time alone with him?"

"No, I even try not to be the last one out the door," Charlie said, even though she felt like that was too much information. She was quickly trying to back track and count how many questions they'd asked so far. Five? No six because she used her extra questions.

Four more!

So not her violin tutor, someone from her high school. Hannibal motioned for her to take her turn once more. If they weren't hurting her yet he'd have to find out why she thought it would come to violence. What kind of high school was she at? A murderer and a teacher harassing their student. What else was going on at that school?

"If you have to tell someone can you just skip my parent's and tell the authorities?" Charlie asked, hugging her arms to her stomach. She needed the game to be over even if the hour wasn't.

"We'll discuss it when the time comes, just in case you feel differently then," Hannibal told her as he pinned her down with his gaze. "You will tell me immediately if he touches you."

"That wasn't a question," Charlie said as she looked down at her lap.

"It wasn't." Hannibal agreed as he stood up and walked over to his desk to retrieve a business card. He only paused to write his cell number on the back. "Have they threatened you?"

"No…" Charlie frowned as he walked back over and handed her the card. She looked it over as he sat back down. He had nice handwriting. "Would a normal therapist tell someone now?"

"They would," Hannibal nodded as he watched her run her fingers along the edges of the card. "If he hasn't hurt you, and he hasn't threatened you, why are you afraid of him?"

"He gave me a grade I didn't deserve…" Charlie breathed out the easiest answer she could muster. The thing that stood out more than the rest of the jumbled reasons she was afraid.

"A failing grade," Hannibal said, careful not to put a questioning tone to it. He was going to be disappointed in her if this was all about a poor mark on a paper.

"No," Charlie whined pressing back further against the chair. "I had deserved a failing grade, but that's not what he gave me."

Hannibal sat up straighter once more. Now that was interesting.

Even though Charlie wasn't looking at him she felt like he didn't understand. It was why she hadn't told anyone. Who would understand that?! So, she continued, feeling so very small, "My school was having a blood drive, and I donated blood. Well, I was trying not to be late to class, and I skipped out on the peanut butter sandwiches and cookies not realizing it wasn't just optional free food, and I fainted in the middle of a test in his class. It was almost the end of the day, so the nurse just called my parents to come and get me since I was in no condition to walk home. When I went back the next day he handed back the tests and I expected to see an F at the top, maybe no grade at all with a note that I could finish taking it after class. Instead, at the top was an A. All the bubbles were filled in… I, I waited to the end, and I told him there was a mistake. That someone else must have taken the rest of test for me, that I didn't deserve the A. That I'd retake it. That I wanted a grade I deserved, that I _earned_ …. He told me… He told me I deserved the A. That I was _perfect_." She knew Hannibal noted how she said that as though it were the worst of insults. "He… he grabbed for me, and… and I ran. I was closer to the door so I just ran." Charlie pushed his card into the pocket of her hoodie. "I tried to transfer out, lied and said I wanted something more challenging, but nothing with space in it fit my schedule… so I have to stay in his class." Finally looking up at Hannibal Charlie managed to ask, "Am I right to be scared?"

Hannibal could feel his head nodding immediately. "You are. You were right to run away." She wasn't right in keeping it to herself until now. While this was his gain, it didn't mean he was pleased by any means. If this man had not shown restraint then Hannibal might not have gotten to Charlie, but he'd prefer if no one was sniffing around her. "Has he been following you?"

"N-not that I've noticed… I think he's been leaving me alone for the most part," Charlie said even though her brain shouted. _Nine!_ One more question each and then it was over. In that moment, of wanting this to be done she spit out the first question that came to mind, "What's your favorite color?"

Hannibal's eyes widened. He'd been keeping count he knew she was trying to hurry the game along, but he hadn't expected the personal question. "Red, deep, dark red." Like wine. Like blood. Sighing he decided to go easy on her. "How about you?"

Tension ran from her shoulders. "Mine is red too, but the soft kind, like the bottoms of clouds in the early morning."

"Now," Hannibal said as he took her in, "The game done for the day. What shall we tell your mother?"

"Something she'll believe…" Charlie mumbled. "Maybe that I just sat here and stared at you for an hour. It'll make her mad, but she'll believe it."

"Would you like to make her mad?" Hannibal asked with a slight tilt of his head. Curious.

"No, but you promised you wouldn't tell her what we actually talked about," Charlie explained, running her fingers through her hair. "If I had a performance coming up, I'd tell you to tell her that I was nervous, but that isn't an option."

"Perhaps I'll tell her that it's better if we wait to talk about our sessions. That you spoke to me, but it was mostly benign," Hannibal offered. All else failed he'd just recite confidentiality, but assure her that Charlie was talking to him, and nothing seemed serious.

"If you think that'll work," Charlie nodded. After a moment, she asked, "Does everyone feel compelled to spit out what they're thinking to you, or am I just an easy target?"

"Usually when people come to talk to me here it's their choice." Hannibal said, but after a pause added, "You needed to tell someone, so you did."

"I had plenty of chances to tell people. I never did." Charlie argued.

"Then why tell me?" Hannibal asked, challenge laced into his tone.

Charlie frowned looking down at her hands before looking back up at him insisting, "It didn't feel like refusing to answer was a choice."

Hannibal forced himself to smile indulgently, instead of grin at her like he was liable to eat her up. She was right, it wasn't a choice.

* * *

Thank you for everyone who read this, and those who fav'ed the story!

Questions, reviews, and responses are always welcome, I'll reply at the bottom of each chapter!


	3. Pick and Choose

The rest of the week went by more or less uneventfully for Charlie, until Friday. Then, she fidgeted all the way through dinner. Her parents had been happy to hear she was talking to Dr. Lecter, but she'd felt weird about it. Exposed. Like because she'd said it out loud they'd suddenly realize what was going on. That hadn't been the case but still. He drove her to school all week. They kept the conversation light. He reminded her the morning after to call him if she needed him, and Charlie had agreed then. She hadn't though. She hadn't called him…

Charlie sat in the car now, thinking it over as her mother drove. Nothing had happened. At least… not really. They both knew Hannibal meant if he _hurt_ her she should call. He hadn't hurt her. He'd only touched her, and not even indecently. Still, somehow, she felt like Hannibal would think she hadn't listened to him. That made her nervous

She had freaked out over a hand on her shoulder. Just a hand on her shoulder. That didn't seem like a good enough reason to call him, so Charlie kept putting it off. First she told herself she'd call him when she got home, then after she finished her homework, and finally after that she told herself she was going to see him anyway. It'd only happened this afternoon. Maybe she'd just tell him in person…

"You are going to talk to him again, right?" her mom asked as she quickly glanced over at her, before looking back out at the road. Her mom was worried the first session was at best a fluke, and at worse a plan to never have to say anything meaningful but chatting about nothing.

"Yeah," Charlie sighed. She'd have to. It was part of the rules to their game. If she stopped playing he'd tell someone what was happening at school. She didn't want that kind of attention. There was a murder, she didn't want that kind of attention on her because a teacher gave her an A instead of an F.

"It's just that Dr. Lecter isn't letting me pay him for his time," her mom explained before she asked, "You are talking to him, right?" Charlie knew that there was a part of her mom that was scared that Hannibal just wasn't admitting to not being able to get her to talk.

"I am," Charlie mumbled, "Maybe he's just being nice." Maybe it was because he wasn't really treating her?

oOo

The moment he looked at Charlie he knew something was wrong. Her mother was gone just as he instructed, but Charlie kept her eyes down. He frowned a bit at that. She always looked at him, even if it was just stolen glances. Once they were seated he asked, "What happened?"

"I went first last time," Charlie complained, looking off to the side.

"And, I'm going first this time," Hannibal insisted watching her patiently.

"He didn't hurt me," Charlie breathed.

"Charlie, tell me what _did_ happen," Hannibal said, keeping his voice even. He kept his composure for when she'd eventually lift her head and look at him. It wouldn't do for her to lift her head and see something more looking out at her.

"I… I just got upset," Charlie reasoned as she rubbed her palms against the top of her thighs. "No one thought it was weird. He was lecturing and he kept his hand on my shoulder. I… I just… I held it together until class let out… I felt like I should have called, but I just… calmed down and went home."

"You could have called," Hannibal told her, getting Charlie to finally look up at him. He could see her reluctance at even thinking about calling him.

"I didn't want to interrupt you, if you were working," Charlie explained as she sunk back against the chair, her eyes returning to her lap. She didn't want anyone dropping anything to come and deal with her problems.

"I would have called you back if I was with a patient and couldn't answer right away," Hannibal said watching her toy with the beginning of a hole in the knee of her jeans. "Call next time Charlie." So very few of his patients were interesting anyway.

"If I need to…" Charlie agreed, deciding that it was safe to do so like that. She might not _need_ to next time. She looked at him a bit as she thought about her question. Then she sat up straighter asking something that had been nagging at the back of her mind, "What happens at the end of the month, when the game is over, and he's still my teacher?"

"You'll still have my number," Hannibal said clasping his hands together, "I'll still live across the street." Then he caught her eye adding, "I won't leave you to the wolves just because our game is over. Perhaps we can use your hour for violin and harpsicord lessons." He didn't want this to just end. Who was to say they couldn't start a new game after this one?

Charlie went to ask another question, but when his eyes sharpened on her she huffed a bit saying with a rueful smile, "It's hard to do this one question at a time."

"Not all games are easy to play," Hannibal grinned, before he asked, "Did you feel guilty for not calling me?" When she looked at him, surprise etched on her features he explained, "You wouldn't look at me."

"I thought you might think I wasn't listening, but when you said touch I knew you mean _hurt_ ," Charlie summed up feeling like a child that was made to say what they did wrong. The nice thing about this game was that if she didn't want to keep talking about something she just needed to ask her next question, "Do you want lessons just to keep tabs on me?"

"I also want to learn," Hannibal nodded. A thought occurred to him at that and his question presented itself. "Would you have called if he had hurt you?"

"It would depend…" Charlie frowned. "If it was a Tuesday or a Friday and I knew I was going to see you… I might wait… but really it would depend on if I needed help… If I was able to call…" Biting her lip Charlie looked up at him to see the tight frown on his lips, "I have this idea of what could happen to me, which is why I try not to be alone at school, but I don't really know… he said I was perfect, but I don't know what he thinks I'm perfect for."

Hannibal didn't want to know, but he still had a pretty decent idea. Before he could say anything, such as enforce that she needed to call him if something happened, Charlie spit out her question, "What would you do if I didn't call you, and tried to hide it?"

"I'd tell your mother you should stay in therapy," Hannibal told her as he fixed her with a level gaze. While he knew she'd test boundaries that was not one he wanted her toeing any more than she already was.

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him insisting, "You said you couldn't be my therapist."

"I can't be," Hannibal shrugged. "I'd be sure to recommend your mother to someone qualified to look out for you." She of course didn't want to take this laying down, and Charlie narrowed her eyes at him.

"You told me that you'd tell her I didn't need any more therapy once the month was over," Charlie said as she fisted her hands against her knees.

"You told me you would tell me if he touched you," Hannibal said with a smug tilt of his lips. "If you're going to pick and choose which of our deals you want to stick with, then you are giving me permission to do the same."

Charlie had the good sense to look ashamed of herself. She looked down at her hands and mumbled, "We won't lie to each other…"

"Only truthful answers," Hannibal agreed.

oOo

The rest of their session went smoothly. Most of the questions less dire. Charlie learned that Hannibal use to be a medical doctor, and Hannibal learned that while Charlie loved to play the violin she was less than impressed with the idea of being a musician for the rest of her life. She rather be an artist, but her mother hadn't been as impressed with that choice. When they got to ten Hannibal taught her some things about the harpsicord, and got her to shakily play a simple scale.

When the hour was up he passed her over to her mother. Hannibal decided to make it a point to try and offer her a ride every few days. That way he could keep an eye on her in between their sessions.

That was just in time for the office phone to start ringing.

He picked it up with the normal pleasantries only to find Jack Crawford asking him a favor. "We're getting called in on some murders that are related to a high school near your home. I was wondering if you'd consult with us."

"With the FBI, or Will specifically," Hannibal asked keeping the smile on his lips out of his tone. He took out his cell and unmuted it. Checking the notices he saw that Jack had tried to call him during his session with Charlie, but had the good graces to only do it once and then wait out the hour. Will left a text saying he couldn't make it to their session tonight because of work.

"Both," Jack confessed, "We need Will on this, and I need you to keep an eye on his state of mind. I know you cleared him, but I want to be careful."

"Don't want him seeing Abigail Hobbs in every teenager we come across?" Hannibal asked as he started to put things in their place, knowing he was probably about to end up on a crime scene shortly.

"Exactly," Jack sighed from his side of the phone. "Are you done with patients for the night?"

"I am," Hannibal said as he went about turning off the decorative lights and shutting down the office. Will was the only person he saw this late, and they were now headed to the same place. "I'm free if you need me now."

"Thank you. I'll text you the address, Will is already on his way, but he needed something from his office, so you might still beat him if there isn't much traffic down your way," Jack explained, "It was a teacher this time."

"I'll be right there," Hannibal insisted before they ended the call. All he'd managed to get out of Charlie was that he taught history. He knew she wouldn't tell him his name, and he didn't want to end their game. She'd taken a long time to tell him anything, he'd asked for any information on that man, that he taught history was all she felt like she could share.

If this man was a history teacher he'd text her the name, and see what that got him. Hopefully it'd be obvious and it'd have STALKER on the wall, save him the trouble.

oOo

Of course it wasn't that easy, Hannibal lamented as he looked around at everyone gathering information on the _math_ teacher. Not history…

"What does a twenty-eight-year-old math teacher have to lie about?" Price asked as they stood in front of the body, and therefor in front of the wall that had LIAR painted on it in blood. "That's still a little young to be jaded right?"

"Grades?" Beverly asked, she was on the side voting student.

"I don't know, he has framed artwork from his students. He seems fairly well liked if this is any indication." Zeller said as he picked up a ceramic mug with #1 Teacher painted on it in the shaky scrawl of a new artist surrounded by the signatures of students. "He's probably still young enough that the students feel like they can relate to him. Perhaps he was having an affair with one of the staff?" Zeller was positive it was a teacher.

Will wasn't there yet and Hannibal found himself quite interested in the artwork on the wall of the dead man's office slightly more than the actual murder scene. Each had a little paper in the corner of the frame with the name of the student, a title, and the year. Some were simply doodles, others were more along the lines of art projects. After a moment he found the one he hoped he wouldn't. _Charlotte "Charlie" D'Amore_ _"I Promise I was Really Doing Math in Your Class" 2016_. His lips twitched down. Not at the picture. It was a landscape, something she'd sketched and added some minimal color with watercolors, and judging by the lines of the windowpane it was probably the view out the window of the man's classroom. It was promising. He frowned because if Charlie gave the man the picture she'd probably be upset to hear of his death. It was from this year, he wondered how long it took Charlie to warm up to the man. He moved towards the body taking in the man's blood smeared face. He had a certain appeal about him even dead, animated in front of a classroom he was probably charming.

"Do you think it was a teenager?" Jack asked as he looked down at the man as well.

"It's hard to say," Hannibal breathed as looked from the body up to the word on the wall. "The words on the walls could be chalked up to childish name calling, but they could also be something more. Like a scarlet letter. There's a certain rage to the stabbing, but that can be either or as well." Crouching down Hannibal looked the body over closer, "I suspect an adult, but maybe a senior."

"Older not younger," Jack nodded. "Someone with enough freedom not to be missed during the murders."

Will walked into the room at that asking, a slight whine to his tone, "If you have Dr. Lecter, do you really need me?"

Hannibal looked to see that Will wasn't trying to be rude. He looked more like he didn't want to be there. Perhaps he was hoping to get to go back to his classroom to be left alone. "We still need more insight on the killer Will," Jack insisted, crushing all of Will's hopes in one fell swoop. Then he followed it with, "Everyone out!"

Once the door was shut Hannibal moved around the bottom floor. There was more student art here and there. More people were checking the rest of the house, but they didn't seem to be coming up with anything. It was suspected that the person was let into the house. There wasn't any tampering with the locks, no broken windows. Just no one knew how the man knew his killer. Coworker or student? He moved towards the front room only to pause.

Hannibal's thoughts derailed as he noticed a nail in the wall, but no picture…

"Jack!" Hannibal called out to the man, waving him over.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked looking around, but before Hannibal could answer he noticed it too. "There's a picture missing." There were some shouted orders and a flurry of movement. Hannibal and Jack moved out of the way, and Jack went onto ask, "Why take a picture?"

"A trophy?" Hannibal suggested. He might not have kept his trophies, but he certainly took them. This killer probably kept his. His mind shuffled through possibilities. Perhaps the killer had picked it out of the many to take as his trophy. Maybe Fuller gave it back to the student who gave it to him and it was unrelated. Maybe the killer took it because it was his artwork and he didn't want his name in the house. His mind turned to Charlie and her problem, and he toyed with the idea that the killer took it because he thought he deserved it more. "Maybe a jealous colleague taking what he thought should have been his."

"We're getting in touch with the school, have someone go around and do interviews in the morning. Start questioning the students in his classes after that. Depending on how long it takes to do the teacher interviews perhaps we'll just wait till Monday and question the kids at the school." Jack reasoned out loud.

Hannibal nodded. He knew Charlie wouldn't take the opportunity to save herself. Wouldn't try to point out her history teacher… Hannibal frowned, and toyed with the idea that he and Charlie knew the killer…

Maybe…

He would try to get Charlie to talk about her history teacher more, just in case.

At least he found her artwork. If the killer was doing this because of Charlie it would go to show he'd take her artwork. At least, he would have.

oOo

When Will came out he agreed with the jealousy. He said it'd be better if he could see the other crime scenes, maybe he'd see more of the design. There were too many factors muddling up his image of the crime. As they were residences with grieving parents he said he'd make do with the pictures of the scenes. He seemed to think it was a teacher, but he wasn't as sure as he was in the Hobbs case, or even the mushroom gardener.

The taken picture did beg the question of what was missing from the other houses, if anything?

The parents all seemed to think that everything was accounted for.

Hannibal frowned as he made his way back home. Will was going to be at his office in the morning with the crime scene photos. It'd give him a chance to observe Will at work, but also see the other crime scenes for himself. They'd collaborate. He wondered if Charlie would call to ask about the murder, but decided she wouldn't. She was stubborn. She'd wait until she saw him. He'd give her the chance come Monday and offer her a ride.

* * *

Okay so I got excited that I got a review, so I'm using up one of the chapters I already have written. I have one more after this that I'm still looking over to make sure it's good to go and then we hit where I had to change some stuff more to my liking. So I'll probably update again sometime this week, and then it'll depend on how fast I crank out the next chapter after that.

I hope this working out for those of you who are still reading!

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **city bookworm:** Thank you for reading this one too. Yeah I wanted Charlie to talk to him, but I didn't want it to be just her spitting it all out. Now there's a bit of give and take. A reason for her to get to know him as well. Yeah that was a bit of an accidental nod to that. I hadn't really intended it, but that is something he'd do, has done depending on how you look at it, but Charlie's end of it is all much less dire. Anyway, I hope I continue to do well, and you keep reading! Thanks for the review on this one too.


	4. Liar Liar

Hannibal watched as Will disappeared into the scene set in front of him. The pictures set out on his desk made up the room of a football player. He made sure not to move, less he broke Will's concentration. Hannibal looked over the pictures from beside Will. Looking to see if the crime scene photographers managed to snag a picture of a lonely nail in the wall, or an empty space that logically would have held something. Unfortunately, the only empty places were where the fighting knocked things to the floor. The walls were practically papered with posters, nothing seemed missing from those either, in fact Bully was swiped right over some of them.

A cheerleader, and a member of the wrestling team would follow. The girl was labeled a gossip while the other boy had bully on his wall as well. Hannibal didn't have to wonder after why Charlie didn't feel the need to talk about the murders at all. She was probably relieved these people were gone. It had him once more entertaining the idea that Charlie's teacher was doing this too, and anyone who even so much as looked at her wrong was singling themselves out.

But why not take Charlie's artwork?

None of the others would mean as much to him.

When Will blinked and shook his head Hannibal focused on the man next to him and waited. Eventually Will breathed, "They had to be stopped, they're all being punished."

Hannibal nodded. "Made to offer up their pound of flesh for their crimes?"

"Yeah, but the thing is, it doesn't seem right," Will said as he shuffled the pictures to the side and started to pull out the next set. He watched Hannibal sort them back out and put them into the envelopes they came in. "It's definitely an adult. They feel righteous in this act. The school hasn't told us about any scandals, or any of these kids being suspended or getting detention for bullying, but why care if the lead cheerleader said something nasty about the quiet kid eating lunch by themselves?" Will started piecing the girl's bedroom together with a frown. "Teachers will turn a blind eye because the football player is more charming than the shy kid they can pick on. That's why there's no consequences for picking on them. That's why they're picked on."

"Shall I go for the low hanging fruit?" Hannibal asked with a quirk of his lips. Will had called him out when he'd asked about his mother when they got talking about Abigail Hobbs' mother.

"Next session perhaps," Will huffed out a chuckle. "Besides this one seems to be seeing the bullied kid just fine."

oOo

Monday rolled around and Hannibal was only half surprised to find Charlie standing in his driveway. She had the look of someone who was crying. She swiped at her cheeks before moving towards him. It was then he noticed the envelope in the hand that wasn't holding her violin case. Charlie held it out to him saying, "My mom wants to invite you to the ballet on Saturday. My father can't make it because he has to have dinner with some people from the publishing house before his book tour, and she was hoping you'd come and sit with me."

"Would you like if I came to the ballet with you?" Hannibal asked, as he tilted his head a little to see her face. She had this way of leaning her head just right so he couldn't look straight at her. She'd obviously learned how to hide behind her blonde curls well.

Charlie bit her lip, before looking up at him. She was sure this was going to turn into a question somehow tomorrow, but she nodded. "I would. I would like it if you came to the ballet."

Hannibal smiled and took the envelope she still held between them. "I'll come with you then," he paused before motioning to the car, "if you'll let me drive you to school."

Charlie's eyes widened, but she still nodded again. She moved over to the passenger side, getting in with Hannibal. Once he pulled out of the driveway she mumbled, "My teacher was killed. Well, one of them. My math teacher."

"I know, I'm sorry," Hannibal said with a light frown. "The FBI was called in, and I was asked to consult."

"Are there any leads?" Charlie asked with her own frown.

"Just that it's all connected to the school," Hannibal told her, though if things started to spiral out of control he'd keep her out of harm's way. Perhaps find a reason for her not to attend school. Maybe even just blatantly help her play hooky from school. For right now she wasn't in too much danger in the school as long as kept to not being alone.

Charlie leaned her head back with a sigh, "I like… liked Mr. Fuller. He was really nice to me even though I'm really bad at math."

"I thought you were doing well in all your classes?" Hannibal frowned a bit.

"I'm legitimately bad at math," Charlie let out a defeated, but slightly amused breath. "Mr. Fuller would joke that he'd fail me just so he could have me next year, because even if I didn't know the answer I still raised my hand and tried to answer his questions. My dad likes to pretend my math class doesn't exist when he brags. Mr. Fuller and I had a deal though, if I did my best he wouldn't fail me. He didn't promise me the world, but he did promise me the credit towards graduation as long as I turned in all my work, correct or not. Mr. Fuller wasn't one to sugar coat things. He told me a D was better than an F and if I really tried he'd never drop me below a D. I'm bad at math and we both knew it and never pretended otherwise. It wasn't a secret. He did say I was improving though I have a high C now."

Hannibal nodded saying, "He does sound like a good man." He'd been helping Charlie, that was good enough for Hannibal considering the man wasn't around anymore to scrutinize. It did raise the question as to why the many was dead, but that wasn't what was important right now. Then curious, he asked, "Could you have told Mr. Fuller what was happening with your other teacher?" Why not go to someone she trusted?

"I thought about it… he would have believed me, he would have went with me to the office," Charlie said, hesitant to answer these kinds of questions outside the game, but let it go. "I just wanted it to go away… I'm still hoping that he'll just continue to leave me alone. That whatever came over him will fade with time…"

"People like that Charlie, they don't just forget about it," Hannibal told her seriously, "Especially when you sit in the front row of their class every day."

Charlie tensed, "How do you know I sit in the front?" She of course couldn't go up to him and ask to sit somewhere else. That would require talking to him when no one was around, or risk making a scene. After all she didn't have any sort of problem with someone around her and being in the front row she couldn't very well claim she had trouble seeing. Being further back wouldn't accomplish anything.

"I bet he has a seating chart." Hannibal sneered, his lip curling at the thought that he was driving her towards this man, "You sit front and center so he has an excuse to look in your direction when addressing the class. It means he gets to hand you papers when he has you all pass them down the line. All the people he has sit around you aren't threats to him. Girls and possibly boys he either thinks, or knows, don't have the proclivities for the parts you have. Maybe, in an attempt to not seem obvious about walling you off from potential threats to his claim, there's a boy near you that could like you, but simply isn't interested in you, or you've shown open disinterest in them."

Charlie clenched her hands in the bottom of her hoodie as she thought about the seating chart. A girl sat to her right and behind her, the boy to her left was possibly the most flamboyant boy in the grade. The seats diagonal to hers were occupied by a girl, and a boy with possibly more disinterest in other people than she had… "How do you know all that?" Charlie asked softly.

Hannibal thought about telling her it was textbook, and leave it at that. Instead he told her, "I'm sure he likes to look at you, and you've already proven he likes to touch you. The big thing is, if you had the ability to control the people around the person you were interested in, would you seat them by people who could take them from you?"

"No…" Charlie sighed as she tried not to curl into herself. She had to go to school, and if she thought about it too much she wouldn't get out of the car. "I just… I can't call you every time he does those things."

"You can," Hannibal insisted.

"Dr. Lecter…." Charlie started, but was unsure how to finish.

"What is it Charlie?" Hannibal asked as the school came into sight. He didn't want her to get out of the car if she needed to say something. He wanted to hear it first.

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek. Decided since she started it she had to finish, "What we're doing… isn't right… is it?"

"Would you like to put an honest effort into therapy?" Hannibal asked, glancing over at her. "Or have me tell someone why I shouldn't let you out of the car?"

"No…" Charlie breathed. "It's just, won't you get in trouble? If something happens to me and you have to tell them you know who did it?"

"I'm not going to withhold information if something happens to you," Hannibal insisted as he pulled into a spot near the school. He'd tell them exactly who did it, just he'd just edit how he knew, and why he "suspected" one of her teachers.

"I don't want you to get in trouble," Charlie sighed as she started to gather her stuff.

Hannibal looked at her fully at that, his eyes widening just a fraction. When she looked back at him he schooled his features, and told her, "I won't get in trouble."

oOo

Will sighed as he leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling. This next kid was taking her sweet time getting here. The dean he'd been saddled with to watch over the interviews was coarse and found a reason to scold practically every teen that walked through the door. That didn't make them super forthcoming, but none of them seemed to be able to believe anyone would want to kill Fuller. His coworkers had been more or less the same.

A couple more minutes passed and Will gave in and stood up. He was going to need more coffee, and he told the dean as much. The man mumbled something, his face in his phone. Something about teenagers and cops. Walking out into the hall Will lamented that Hannibal had a busy practice. He could be here helping with the weepy kids. Two of them devolved into sobbing, and one almost fainted.

Before he could get to the doors though his next one showed up. She looked out of breath, and… scared. Will's hand hovered neared his gun as he rushed forward, asking, "Is something wrong?"

Charlie looked up from the floor and tried not to look terrified. She instantly shook her head stammering out, "I'm… I'm okay! It's no-nothing…" Her eyes drifted down to where his visitors pass was hung around his neck in a lanyard, meaningless little cards with visitor written on it over the school logo, and then to his gun. He was supposed to interview her! "Oh no, I'm so sorry I took so long. I… There's no excuse, I'm sorry I've wasted your time." She hoped that it would distract him enough to get them into the lecture hall to forget about this entire encounter.

Will looked the girl over, before glancing over her shoulder to where you could see into the outside hall through windows in the doors. No one was there though. "Are you sure you're okay?" Will asked again. He knew she was scared. He knew she was trying to distract him.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," Charlie said fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.

Casting one more look behind her Will gave in saying, "Alright… let's go then." He led her back to the small, empty lecture hall only to wish it really was empty…

"Charlotte, where have you been?" the dean asked his voice promising detention for an unsatisfactory answer.

Charlie froze for a second before she told him, just loud enough to be heard. "I'm sorry Mr. Dawson, Mr. Lane stopped me in the hall… he… he thought I was ditching class."

Will frowned. She was lying… why lie about why the teacher stopped her? Why lie about being okay?

"I hope you know I'm going to ask him about it," Mr. Dawson said as he scrutinized her.

"I know," Charlie nodded. What was Mr. Lane going to do? Admit to harassing her?

"Uh, right, have a seat," Will said waving towards the desks he'd been using to do interviews. Charlie sat in one of the chairs that had a folding desktop attached while Will repositioned the roller chair he'd been sitting in. He gathered her file from the desktop next to her as he introduced himself, "I'm Special Agent Will Graham," he paused before beginning on the spiel that he'd modified over the last couple of interviews, "Charlotte, I want you to know that the school called your parents and that they agreed to let you be interviewed on your own, you're allowed to refuse to answer any questions, and you can leave back to class at any time." Teens these days were oddly aware of their rights, and very determined about hearing them, and really it covered their ass in case one of them was the killer.

"I understand," Charlie nodded as she sat up in her chair. How she needed to sit in orchestra was the perfect _I'm listening_ posture she'd learned when talking to teachers and other adults, "But you can call me Charlie, people only call me Charlotte when I'm in trouble."

He nodded and asking, "So how well did you know Mr. Fuller?"

Charlie shrugged chewing on her lower lip for a second, "As well as you know any teacher I suppose, maybe a little more because he's… he was younger, and he was one of my favorite teachers. You know, things like his first name being John, he was twenty-eight, was really good at art but for some ungodly reason chose to be a math teacher?"

Will couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he nodded. Sure plenty of the high schoolers had said basically the same thing, but not quite like that. "Do you know anyone that had a problem with Mr. Fuller?" He continued his line of questioning, his fingers drumming on her file instead of opening it.

"No, he was always really fair," Charlie shook her head, "I mean I'm in the dumb math…"

" _Charlotte D'Amore!_ " Mr. Dawson admonished.

"I'm in applied math," Charlie corrected herself as she slid down in her chair, "But it was still almost impossible to fail his class as long as you turned in your work showing you tried. He always had extra credit after tests… Things like that. I've never known anyone to say a bad word about him."

Will nodded, then asked, "Was he romantically involved with anyone?"

"Not that I know of?" Charlie shrugged, "Some of the girls speculated him and another teacher would make a cute couple once in class, and he insisted that he doesn't play where he works. If he was involved with someone, it probably wasn't a teacher from our school."

Will made an agreeable noise; he hadn't heard that one yet. Maybe it was only something that came up in her class. He finally opened her file to see which period she had math. Third, he hadn't had anyone from in there. Maybe it'd come up again when he got to someone else from her class… He jotted down the note before asking, "Did you give Mr. Fuller any artwork?"

"Yeah, a landscape I gave him…" Charlie stopped as Mr. Dawson's walkie-talkie crackled to life about a fight in a classroom.

The dean cursed under his breath before striding towards the door saying, "I'll be right back, when you're done with Charlie just stick your head in the next classroom and tell Ms. Dunhill to call the office to get the next student for you."

They both watched him go, but after Will glanced back down at Charlie's file he noticed her address. "You live next to Hannibal?"

"Dr. Lecter?" Charlie asked, and when Will nodded she smiled saying, "Across the street, but yes. My parents have been to a couple of his dinner parties. He seems like a good man." She didn't want to explain exactly why she felt that way, but she doubted Mr. Graham would ask. That was just something someone might say to be polite.

"We work together," Will nodded. He and Hannibal had gotten off to a rocky start, but Hannibal wasn't too bad to talk to. As such he frowned and looked at Charlie saying, "You know, you could tell Dr. Lecter what happened out in the hallway, if you're not comfortable telling me."

"I'll think about it…" Charlie sighed. She knew Hannibal would want her to call, but she was okay. She'd wait till tomorrow and tell him during their session… if it came up.

Will was thinking about it too. He did have to see Hannibal tonight.

oOo

Will waited until there was a lull in their conversation to bring up Charlie. He still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but if the girl was being bullied, someone needed to know. Maybe Hannibal could talk to her, or her parents…

"So, I met one of your neighbors' children today…" Will said as he walked over to where Hannibal was sketching the back of a woman at a piano… or maybe it was a harpsicord.

Hannibal paused in his task to look up at Will, "Which one? There are teenagers in both the houses across from me." Of course he had a feeling he already knew which one. He just didn't want to seem over eager to talk about her.

"She told me to call her Charlie," Will said as he fidgeted with the edge of Hannibal's desk.

"Charlie is rather endearing, isn't she?" Hannibal nodded as he set down his pencil.

"She seems like a good kid," Will agreed, before he frowned a little more, "but, she repeats herself when she lies."

"She was lying to you?" Hannibal asked, a deep frown stealing his lips.

"Not about her interview," Will explained quickly. "She didn't know any more than the other students. Her artwork was accounted for…" Will moved over to sit in the chair across from his desk. "She was taking a long time to get to her interview, so I was going to go get coffee. She came into the hall when I was about to leave and she was out of breath, and scared… I think someone was harassing her, and a teacher saw, but didn't do anything to the other student."

That's not what was happening, but Hannibal didn't say that. Instead he asked, "Why do you think the teacher didn't do anything." He was the one doing the harassing.

"First she lied about being okay, and that's how I caught on to her repeating herself. The staff member that was with me for the interviews demanded to know why she took so long and she said a teacher stopped her, but then lied about why the man stopped her in the hall."

Hannibal looked down at the picture he was drawing of Charlie. She didn't call him. If he didn't still suspect this man of being the killer he would tell Will exactly what going on, just to teach her a lesson. Instead he looked back up at Will saying, "That's unfortunate… I've been giving Charlie rides to school as a favor to her mother, in light of the murders, and she hasn't mentioned anything to me." After a pause he went on, "I'll talk to her about it tomorrow. What's the teacher's name, so if I need to I can have her parents talk to the school?"

"Mr. Lane," Will said feeling somehow like he'd just sold the girl up the river instead of helping her.

* * *

So I wanted to post this up sooner but my father ax murdered my computer with a virus and I had to have my brother wipe the whole thing and I had to start this chapter from about half way because that's all I had saved on my onedrive. In any case here it is. Charlie met Will, and Hannibal's less then pleased that the first thing she did was lie to him, but now he has a name. We'll see how that works out.

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **city bookworm:** I don't know that Hannibal is positive right now, but he is seriously considering it. You're right about him affixing himself in her life more, and in the next chapter you'll see that happen. A lot is about to happen in the next couple of chapters.

 **maybird23:** Here it is. Thanks for reading.

 **Lady El Bass:** Thank you for the for the confidence, and for reading!


	5. Not A Game

"Alexander Lane," Hannibal said as soon as they were both seated.

Only Charlie shot right back up. Before Hannibal could speak she shook her head insisting, "I can't do this." It had been one thing when Hannibal didn't know. It was different now that he did. She tensed when he stood as well, she moved to go back towards the door, but he quickly reached out and pulled her against him.

Hannibal expected her to tense further, or pull away from him, but instead she melted against him. Her hands loosely gripped at the sides of his jacket. "Will told me that he thought Lane saw another student harassing you but did nothing. He doesn't know that Lane was the one harassing you."

"You know…" Charlie breathed as Hannibal smoothed his hand against her hair.

"I know," Hannibal agreed, "Now I know a little more. It doesn't change our deal."

"I didn't need to call," Charlie mumbled against his jacket, "Mr. Graham had his hand over his gun, and I didn't need him to use it. I pulled it together for the interview, and I got all the way though school…"

Of course she knew he wasn't pleased with her about that. "Were you going to tell me?"

Charlie looked up at him, her chin on his chest. "If you asked…"

"About your day?" Hannibal questioned as he looked down at her.

"If anything happened…" Charlie corrected carefully.

Hannibal brushed her cheek with his thumb now that he had her in his grasp. He'd have to let her go in a moment, but he liked her warmth lightly pressed against him. Didn't mind that she was wrinkling his jacket where she was still holding on to him. "I suppose I'll still feed you then," Hannibal breathed. He decided he couldn't punish her. Not just yet. Not for that. She wasn't quite his yet. Charlie knew there were consequences, but she didn't know what those were.

Charlie's eyes widened. She'd forgotten about him offering to bring her dinner the other day in the car. "You bought dinner?" She asked in wonder.

"I _cooked_ dinner," Hannibal chuckled as he let his grip slide from her, and she did the same. "Beef pot pie."

oOo

Charlie smiled around her fork. Hannibal was such a good cook. Once she swallowed she grinned at him insisting, "It's so good. I mean my parents said you could cook but it's sooo good."

Hannibal smiled telling her, "Thank you Charlie." They sat on either side of his desk as they ate, and had decided to forego the game for today. Despite her greatly lifted mood, he could still tell she felt a bit delicate.

Shaking her head Charlie hummed, "No, thank you. I was going to end up with McDonalds. I mean I won't pretend I don't like McDonalds, but it can never beat real food. Especially not this, you can't compare the two." Charlie couldn't help but like him more for this. Not to mention it seemed to mean a lot to him that she liked his food.

Hannibal smiled as she praised his cooking. Even if they weren't playing their game, that didn't mean that Hannibal wouldn't get some questions in edgewise. "Do you really want me to come to the ballet with you?" Hannibal asked, keeping his eyes on her face even as she seemed to find her food even more fascinating. He wanted to know, especially now that he knew one of the things she was trying to keep from him.

Charlie nodded a bit before peeking up at him, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." She didn't really want to admit how much she wanted him to come with her, even if he knew Mr. Lane's identity. Him not knowing had made it less real. Now she had to accept that her teacher was harassing her at school. Still she knew that among all the things that were not okay between her and Hannibal, her liking him was definitely one of them. At least he didn't seem to be actively encouraging her liking him.

At least that's what she thought.

Hannibal was a bit surprised to find she genuinely liked him. He held back a grin, he knew she didn't just ask because her mother forced her too. He knew that if she wanted to be alone that she would have told him straight out, and asked him to refuse her mother. Seeing her reaction now further cemented his, up until now, suspicion that she was beguiled by him. Now he knew. It made him want to reach across the desk and touch her. He contented himself with the knowledge that she hadn't pushed him away, and resisted the urge.

After they ate a little more Charlie looked up at him a bit, before asking, "What do you think we're going to have to do about Mr. Lane?" It was getting closer and closer to coming out into the open. Hannibal hadn't said anything, but she knew. She could feel it.

"One of us is going to have to tell someone," Hannibal frowned. What they would be telling who Hannibal wasn't sure. He'd mention it to Will, but perhaps they'd go to the school first, or the police. Someone would have to be informed. Maybe durring the break. He'd ease Charlie into the idea when she didn't have to directly face the man every day.

"How much do you think he knows about my life outside of school?" Charlie asked when what Hannibal said settled in. She was getting that this wasn't just going to go away like she hoped.

"I'm not sure," Hannibal said, but he knew where Charlie's mind was. "Are you worried about being alone while your parents are gone?"

Charlie tensed. She didn't want to admit to that. After she took a few more bites, aware of Hannibal's eyes still on her Charlie finally nodded. "It keeps me up at night," She told him as she looked somewhere over his shoulder. A public speaking technique she learned in speech and debate as a freshman. Don't look directly at the people you're talking to, just in their general direction. True it worked better on a crowd when you didn't want to let anyone in on it, but it helped her get out what she needed to.

Hannibal waited until her eyes flicked back to his. "Your parents are really letting you stay by yourself?" He asked to make sure. Lately Heath and Lily were surprising him, and not in a good way, more and more often. Get your child help for her mental health, but then abandon her when you're not sure where she is. For all they knew he and Charlie had been skirting around suicidal thoughts instead of a stalker.

"Yeah, my closest friend, is leaving for the break to New York. My other friends I wouldn't feel comfortable staying with them all week. It's going to be Christmas… I made such a fuss about not staying with my grandmother… They'd be suspicious if I changed my mind now," Charlie explained. "The last time we talked about it I even used you being across the street as a reason for them to let me stay."

"Why not stay with your grandmother?" Hannibal asked with a tilt of his head. He would certainly be across the street, but why not take the added protection of numbers in the house?

Charlie chewed her lower lip a bit. "She doesn't like my mom, so I am not her favorite grandchild… My cousins are afraid of her too, but more like she's a strict teacher… Not like she dislikes them…"

Hannibal's features darkened and then went blank.

Charlie jerked a little. "I'm- I'm not afraid of her!" she tried to take back. She didn't like how his face changed. Only the shadow returned over him and she knew she'd made it worse.

"Charlotte." Her name came off his tongue sharply. "We promised."

"We're not playing!" Charlie tried to make it better, though all she succeeded in doing was whining.

"No, this certainly isn't a game," Hannibal insisted as he set down his fork.

"I can't deal with this right now," Charlie said, looking at him pleadingly. "I'm sorry I lied. I have issues with my grandmother. I don't want to deal with them right now."

Hannibal was seriously contemplating taking her over his knee. A dark picture of her crying out, not entirely in pain, drew itself in his mind's eye, and he had to push it back. He unfortunately suspected it would only send her deeper into herself. He leaned up and over the desk, his fingertips poised on the desk, telling her lowly, "Never lie to me again Charlotte."

Charlie's shoulders hunched, and she sank in her chair. "I promise," she said looking up at him earnestly. Hopeful that she hadn't ruined everything even though he looked larger than life leaning over her. It was like his edges were blurred black, fighting off the rest of the world from this moment.

Hannibal took her in more before sitting back down. He continued to eat, as did Charlie, but he noticed her watching him.

"Are you angry at me?" Charlie asked, cautiously.

"No, I'm disappointed," Hannibal corrected.

"I think I rather you be angry with me…" Charlie sighed.

No, she really wouldn't. Hannibal didn't comment though. If he were truly angry with her he'd have corrected her behavior. She wasn't trying to manipulate him though, just herself. She was at the end of her rope though. One sport's euphemism he was familiar with, was _three strikes and your out_. One more and she'd learn better.

After a moment Charlie asked, "Will you check on me while my parents are away… even though I lied…"

Hannibal regarded her for a moment. It would give him the chance to see her without her parents around outside of his office. "Of course, I'll check on you. I suspect that you'll need a ride to your sessions as well?" Charlie nodded quietly. "The patient before you isn't going to be coming next week so I'll have time to come and get you, but you'll have to wait in the waiting room during the session after you."

"That's fine," Charlie nodded. She'd take what she could get. "Could you… tell my mother that? At least that you'll drive me?" Her mom had been dreading talking to her mother in law. It'd save them both some pain. Dad was starting to get that guilty look every time it came up too.

"Yes, I'll let her know," Hannibal nodded, relaxing once more. More time he'd be able to spend with her. Keep her safe.

oOo

Will had just stepped into his office, when Will's cell beeped urgently at them. They found it was Jack. That Jack was currently standing on the lawn across the street from Hannibal's house. That was all it took for them to be on their way. Once they got there Hannibal was relieved to see it was not Charlie's house Jack was standing in front of. Charlie's parents were a part of the crowd.

Charlie wasn't next to them though.

"It was the whole family this time. The back door was broken into," Jack explained getting Hannibal to turn his attention to the man while Will looked at the house with a mix of knowing, and dread.

"How did we get the call?" Will asked with a frown, not understanding how this was all found out. This was not the kind of killer that went calling in his murders. They were for one person, not the whole world.

"The girlfriend of one of the boys let herself in through the garage," Jack frowned as they started inside. "She was pretty shaken up, actually she fainted… she's at the hospital, an officer is with her, waiting for her parents to show up, and for the girl to wake up."

Hannibal caught a glimpse of Charlie moving back out of her house before they went inside. She was okay though. Once inside Hannibal asked, "What's written on the wall?"

"Walls," Price corrected him as he skittered towards the stairs.

"The parents were shot, head shots. They were dragged into the den over there. He opened up the father and wrote _enablers_ on the wall. The boys are in their rooms, hands zip tied, both of them say _bully_ on their walls.

Will frowned down at the blood smeared across the floor… "I'm going to need the whole house," he told Jack with a sigh.

oOo

"He feels like he's running out of time," Will huffed once he let everyone back in the house. It'd taken a lot to subdue a whole family. Used the parents against the kids to get them to do what he wanted. The two football players probably could have taken him together if they didn't think they had anything to lose.

"Winter break is coming up," Hannibal offered as he inspected Mr. Bowen. The Bowen's were not his class of people, but they weren't rude. Mr. Bowen probably could not have told him who Beethoven was, as Hannibal couldn't name the quarterback of any football team they saw each other in the same light. They left well enough alone, an acknowledging nod when they caught each other's eye maybe. He'd once seen the wife in a neon colored catsuit and that's all that really needed to be said about her. He cast a glance at her, keeping his disdain off his face.

"Two weeks?" Katz frowned as she stood next to them. "Not seeing the object of their affection for two weeks got us this?"

"They're not seeing him," Will almost seethed. "They don't understand. They have to understand." He blinked. Rubbed the bridge of his nose… "Someone is taking them from him, or he thinks someone is taking them from him."

"Maybe it's someone who's moving?" Price suggested.

"Maybe she got a boyfriend?" Zeller pipped up.

Hannibal frowned. He needed to know which picture was missing… "Is anything missing from this house?"

"Nothing obvious so far," Katz sighed with an exacerbated wave of her hand.

"Did we figure out if any of the student's artwork was missing?" Hannibal asked.

"So far everyone's artwork has been accounted for, but there's still interviews that need to be conducted. Some of the students won't be in with their parents until the weekend." Jack explained.

Somehow it had to do with Charlie, he knew it. That man was feet from Charlie's house. Why not take Charlie's art though? It kept throwing a cloud of doubt over his certainty. He'd tell Lily later that he'd physically check on Charlie, more than driving her to sessions, while they were gone.

oOo

Charlie slipped through the rest of the week. The whole school was in even more of an uproar. A lot of students weren't coming to school for the rest of the week. Parents were taking their kids on vacation sooner. Some had transferred out of the school all together. There was talk of the school not opening back up after the break if the killer wasn't caught…

Hannibal drove her to school every morning now. Her mom was placated by Hannibal's insistence that he'd look after her. He even promised to make her dinner when he could so she'd be out of the house at times. Today in the car he reached over and brushed her hair out of her face when he told her he'd see her this evening, and she finally felt like he'd forgiven her for lying to him. She liked when he grinned at her. It made her blush, but once she was out of the car she hadn't cared. It left her feeling warm all day.

Walking into Mr. Lane's classroom didn't even bother her too much.

"Oooh, you still have the _look_!" Nate cooed after he flounced into his chair, turning to see her coming in behind him.

"What?" Charlie asked, thoroughly confused, but also still somehow embarrassed as she slid into her seat. She was aware of Mr. Lane pausing in writing notes on the whiteboard, but Nate sometimes commanded your attention. This was one of those times.

"You've had it all day, especially this morning in first," Nate insisted slapping his black sequenced hat on his desk. "You been all cute and pink, like you thinking something naughty. You like someone don't ya?"

"Oh?! Did Charlie finally find someone?" Cassy, on her other side, fussed.

"What?!" Charlie yelped, especially as Mr. Lane seemed to drift closer to them.

"I bet she did! Mr. Lane, doesn't Charlie look all flustered and cute? She must have a man on her mind hmm?" Nate said waving their teacher closer.

"Mmh, could be," Mr. Lane said with a tight smile. Charlie suspected her classmates thought he looked uncomfortable, as they just chuckled at his reaction but she knew better. He was pissed.

"I- It's… It's not like that!" Charlie tried to insist to the people around her. "It's just… He doesn't… Just…"

" _Yup_ , Charlie is smitten!" Nate laughed good naturedly.

"You should tell him Charlie, you'd make a great Christmas present!" Cassy grinned at her.

The bell thankfully rang, saving her from having to stutter her way through a response, but she could still feel Mr. Lane's eyes on her. What if Mr. Lane knew more about her life outside of school than she thought. Would he know about Hannibal? Regardless of the fact that she couldn't be any kind of present for Hannibal he was still the one she was thinking about… What if Mr. Lane did something rash?

Hopefully he didn't know anything about her Tuesday and Friday afternoons…

oOo

When class was almost over, and they still had ten minutes, but he'd gotten them through the lesson plan for the day he started a class discussion. What they were doing during the break. He was going across the front of the room first, so her turn came really fast. "I'm going to the ballet," Charlie said just loudly enough to be heard by everyone so she didn't have to repeat herself, "My mother teaches dance and one of her students is dancing the lead."

"What a coincidence, I have tickets to the ballet this weekend as well," Mr. Lane said with a large grin.

"Oh," was all Charlie could manage as she felt like a blackhole was opening in her chest. Thankfully he moved onto the next student. Charlie watched the clock, counting the seconds until school was over. He was her last class of the day. When the bell finally rang she snatched up her stuff and couldn't help but dart for the door.

"Charlotte!" Mr. Lane scolded her, but she didn't stop. He was right near the stairs to first floor and she took them two at a time so he couldn't call her back. She slowed when she hit the bottom of the stairs and one of the teachers down there gave her a rather stern look. She didn't stop to look for her friends even though she might not see them for two weeks, she just got out of the building, and once she was on the sidewalk she ran. It was hard to run with her violin case, but she didn't let it stop her. She'd have to tune it again, but she was not going to stop.

* * *

Alright so things sort of got away from me, and this isn't exactly how I imagined things, but I am a couple chapters passed this point because I wanted to make sure that it was still going to work out. It is, thankfully. Just certain things weren't working in later chapters, but now the do. So you'll be in for some fun. I might even update again today after I look through the next chapter!

For those who read my other fanfiction, don't worry I'm still working on them, it's just that sometimes I get stuck on one story, and then I flip-flop back to the others. So, don't worry I'm still working on them, they're fine.

 **REVIEW REPLIES**

 **city bookworm:** Hannibal is giving her some chances, even if now she really did lie to him. She'll run out though, and there won't be anything to hold him back. I suspect that will be an interesting chapter. There is the Friday session, which is where the next chapter picks up, and all kinds of fun begins. Not the fun I was just talking about, but fun none the less.

 **Guest:** Thank you for letting me know! It's always a nice pick-me-up!


	6. I Need You

"Charlotte Ann D'Amore you are going to the ballet!" Her mother nearly screeched even as she marched Charlie into Dr. Lecter's waiting room.

"Mom, s-someone is going to hear you," Charlie stammered as she tried not to cry again. She busied herself with sitting down in the chair she normally took up when she was waiting for Hannibal to come and get her. He was going to be so mad at her anyway.

"You're being unreasonable!" Lily insisted at her daughter. "You will go if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

Charlie sunk further down in her chair, because that was probably how it was going to have to be. After a moment, Hannibal opened the door to take in the scene taking over his waiting room. Charlie looked like she was about to cry, but she didn't give him a chance to question her in front of her mother. Instead Charlie stood up and hurried into his office. He let her passed him, but looked at Lily asking, "What is this about?"

"She came home and started yelling and crying that she's not going to the ballet tomorrow. Then she locked herself in her room until I told her that I was going to have to call you if she didn't get in the car. She won't see reason. She can't go and invite you, and then not go!" Lily explained, frustration practically seeping from her pores. She was obviously still trying to talk loud enough to be heard by Charlie. "How am I supposed to let her stay home by herself this week if she's acting like this?!"

"I'll talk to her about it," Hannibal sighed looking over to where Charlie was off to the side, just out of sight of her mother tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands over her mouth.

"I'm just going to go home, call the house if you need more time, or if you need me to come and get her sooner," Lily insisted throwing her hands in the air. Once she was out of his waiting room Hannibal shut the door, and turned to the distressed teenager.

Charlie held it in a little longer before she wrapped her arms around herself and just barely managed to get out, "I w-wanted to call you, but they were already h-ome, and they wouldn't leave me alone!" When Hannibal took a step towards her she jerked back from him, afraid he'd be angry this time, "I _needed_ to call, but they wouldn't go away, and I couldn't let them hear me! I was shaking so bad I couldn't hit the right buttons to text you! I n-need you this time!"

She was shaking now. Moving towards her hadn't worked, instead Hannibal held his arms out for her, saying, "I got you now." It worked and she rushed forward, hiding against him.

"We can't go to the ballet, because he's going too, and he's going to know!" Charlie sobbed against his chest even as she felt bad that she must have been messing up his suit.

Hannibal held her tighter, his hand spanning the back of her head. She kept trying to move closer, even though she was as close as she could possibly get. "What is he going to know?" Hannibal asked keeping his voice low, and gentle. Charlie shook her head under his hand and Hannibal moved her around so her back was against the wall. "He can't get you here, what is he going to know? That I know who he is?"

Charlie shook her head, pulling Hannibal closer to the wall with her. He let her, and slowly it felt like her heart wouldn't explode anymore. Still she didn't want to tell him.

He frowned as he thought a moment. Then it hit him and he breathed, "He's going to know how you feel about me." Charlie nodded against him. "How's he going to know?"

"I… I was thinking about you… and the boy who sits next to me guessed that I was thinking about _someone_ , and he and the girl on the other side made a big deal about it. I got embarrassed and Mr. Lane was _furious_. If he sees us at the ballet he's going to know it's you." Charlie whimpered. "I shouldn't feel this way about you in the first place!"

Hannibal smoothed his hand against her hair, keeping a hold of her. "You'll be okay Charlie," Hannibal told her. "We can still go to the ballet, nothing will happen. Not in front of so many people." If he became the next victim it'd make things easier. He'd quietly dispatch the man. Still he told Charlie, "He might not know you were thinking of me."

"What if he figures it out?" Charlie shook her head against him. "He knows about me outside of school. He knows about my parents. What if he knows they're going out of town? I'm going to be all alone. Something will happen." She remembered his hand closing around her arm when she was going to her interview. He was holding onto her so hard it almost hurt.

Hannibal frowned, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. She would be alone. If Lane knew that Lily's student was playing in the ballet, he definitely knew that Heath was going on a book tour. Would he know that Lily was going as well? Of course, he would find out if he went to the house to find Charlie alone… Maybe it was time to tell Will about Lane.

Charlie felt him sigh and shook her head, "Don't tell!"

"Charlie, you knew eventually I'd have to tell someone." Hannibal spoke against her hair. He could feel her tense against him. He knew she was weighing her options, just like he'd been weighing his. Just the same he knew when she gave in. Her shoulders slumped just a bit.

"We're going to have to lie…" Charlie muttered. "We can't tell them you knew this whole time, and just decided to keep it to yourself. They'd never trust you again."

That wouldn't do.

Hannibal leaned back a little, and Charlie let him, looking up at him tiredly. "We'll tell your mother this is the first time you told me," he agreed. Usually he preferred to stay away from outright lies. This time there wasn't much of a choice if he wanted to keep a hold of Charlie. He'd get Lily to take Charlie home until he was finished with Will, then go to talk to Heath as well.

When Hannibal stepped away from her Charlie reached out and caught a hold of his sleeve. Once he looked back at her she said, "I know I'm not allowed to like you."

Hannibal tilted his head, and twisted his hand around to capture hers. He gave her hand a squeeze before leading her to her chair. The way her lips tugged up just the slightest bit gave him hope that she understood further that he wasn't exactly one to closely follow those sorts of rules. In any case, there wasn't much to their lie, just that she never told him until tonight. They'd go over some things, but mostly she just needed to stay calm. "I want you to lie to me." Hannibal told her.

"You made me promise," Charlie huffed.

"You also repeat yourself when you lie," Hannibal told her with a frown.

"You want me to lie better?" Charlie asked with a tilt of her head.

"I want to teach you an important life skill," Hannibal smiled, "It's important to be able to speak clearly even in stressful situations."

oOo

There was a ten minute grace period between Charlie's appointment and Will's, so when Charlie didn't want him to call her mother back early he obliged her…

He managed to get her to stop repeating herself for the most part. It went quick with lies she didn't care about like the sky being green. It took a little bit with white lies. Like enjoying school. Like thinking she was an amazing artist. (They'd work on her confidence later.) When he made her say she didn't care about him she couldn't get through the first couple of words at first. Eventually she slowed a bit. Cooled off. Thought about what she was saying and said it. She still fidgeted, and bit her lip, but she was a naturally shy girl no one would be able to tell for sure.

She'd still slip up at first, but as long as Will wasn't the one scrutinizing her no one would catch on right away. Now that she was thinking about it, she'd be too inconsistent in her tells for people to pick up on them. For now it was just the one lie though. She didn't tell him until tonight. She told him about getting the passing grade instead of the failing one. She told him about Lane stopping her in the hall before her interview. She told him everything, just she told it to him tonight. Scared because her teacher was going to the same event as her, glossing over that she was afraid for him.

Now, waiting for her mom he walked her back through scales on the harpsicord. He'd gotten a beginner's book for her, but he doubted she'd be focused enough to use it so he helped her keep tempo telling her what notes to play.

When she noticed there was a few moments left she hit the wrong note before snatching her hands back. "Can we see if she's there?" Charlie asked glancing up at him.

"Yes, I'll check," Hannibal nodded as he stood up from beside her on the bench, and headed towards the exit to his office. He listened to her pad behind him, before he opened the door. He frowned though seeing that Lily wasn't there. She was always there, that woman wasn't just on time, she was always early unless she was toting around her husband, then there was a five minute leeway between their opposite views of timeliness. He looked back at the mostly decorative clock Charlie had been eyeing on the bookshelf before moving his arm to see his watch, both were still correct. It was time for Charlie's appointment to be over.

Charlie worried her lower lip. "I made her really angry, maybe she's sending dad. He's never on time without her. He always thinks he has time to do one extra thing," Charlie sighed. Knowing her father, he'd show up with a chocolate bar, or a hot chocolate. It'd make her feel better until Hannibal told him what was wrong…

Hannibal frowned at the exit's waiting room. Five minutes. He'd give them five minutes. He left the door open and turned to Charlie as he said, "Just let me talk at first." She gave a jerky nod as she watched the door. "You'll be fine."

"My parents are going to cancel their trip…" Charlie mumbled. "Dad loves those things."

"They'll reschedule," Hannibal offered. "You're their daughter."

Charlie chewed on her lip before fishing around for her cell, "I'll call mom's cell…no dad's." She turned on her phone squirming through the startup screen and the annoying sound of it coming to life. Hannibal shut the door and moved a little closer his head tilted down towards her as she pulled up her contacts and called her father. She held the phone to her ear, frowning as she listened to it ring… and ring… and ring. Eventually she got his voicemail, but she hung up. Her family was not one for voicemails. Not bothering to narrate her choices she sent her father a text asking where mom was before she called her mother.

Hannibal frowned as Charlie waited through the ringing, trying to connect with her mom. He pulled out his phone to find that he hadn't received any messages. That meant Will was in the waiting room. When Charlie got her mother's voicemail and hung up again to send her a text Hannibal weighed his options. They'd have to tell Will the truth to the lie they were telling her parents…

She wasn't really his patient, he was just giving her a break by letting her talk to him to get her parents off her back…

Messy.

If her parents were fine, and not near their phones he could be caught in a lie. If they weren't fine it wouldn't matter…

How sure was he that they weren't fine?

How sure was Charlie?

She looked up at him worriedly.

"I have a meeting with Mr. Graham tonight…" Hannibal told her. "I could tell him something's wrong."

Charlie looked at him a long time, the flicker of her eyes telling him she was thinking over everything. "Yeah…go ahead…" Charlie breathed, before she remembered. "Oh! I have to tell him something. We got distracted during our interview. I've been… meaning to tell you..."

Hannibal froze before he could turn away from her. He knew she picked up on his stillness, before she could reach for him he walked over and pulled open the door to the waiting room. Will jolted from the suddenness of the movement, and when he saw him he jumped up, walking over quickly. "Charlie has to tell you something, and then I have to tell you something," Hannibal explained ushering Will into the room.

Will looked unsure for a moment before he hardened his features and told Charlie, "Go ahead…" He wasn't sure what this was pertaining to, but he knew from Hannibal's face it was important.

"About the interview?" Charlie asked Hannibal nervously. When he nodded she swallowed and looked back at Will saying, "We got distracted… but I gave Mr. Fuller another art project. I've been meaning to tell Dr. Lecter so he could tell you…"

Will tensed as he looked over at Hannibal, who was very focused on the young teen in front of them. Looking back at her he asked, "What did it look like?"

"Me… it was a self-portrait done in color pencil…" Charlie gripped the bottom of her hoodie when it was obvious they didn't know which picture she was talking about. Desperate she rushed to describe it, "It was kind of cartoony. It had wavy lines of rainbow colored music in the background. I'm holding a violin by my side and a paintbrush in the other?" Stepping back away from them she tried one last thing. "You must have seen it, he said he put it right in front room! It was one of the only one's not in his office!" Why hadn't Hannibal commented on it?

"Her parents aren't answering our calls," Hannibal explained.

"Damn it," Will muttered as he pulled his phone out.

oOo

Hannibal watched Charlie as she sat in the black leather chair he usually sat it. It put her back to them, and she sat with her head in her hands. "Charlie is like you, she's not really my patient. Her mother was worried about her, but she didn't want therapy, so I was giving her a break. I told her parents I'd talk to her a few times this month and then tell them if she needed to continue seeking care. I didn't think she would, being a teenager is hardly a treatable disorder. We talked about little things in her life that were bothering her. Tonight she told me about Mr. Lane, because he said he was going to the ballet she's going to tomorrow, and her parents were supposed to be leaving town Sunday. She'd gotten really quiet when I confronted her before, but I thought she was just embarrassed that she was being bullied."

Will bit at his thumbnail for a second before he pulled his hand down to his pockets. The police were checking the house. It would take a bit for someone to get back to him. Jack was on his way to the house too. Dead or alive something would have to be done with the parents. They couldn't stay there. Will was here because he was armed, and technically an agent… Real police were on their way to watch Charlie, and potentially Hannibal.

It was then Jack's call came through…

Charlie sat up straighter when the phone started ringing. She looked at her own cell even though it wasn't her ringtone. Nothing. They weren't calling her. They weren't texting her. She couldn't bear to look back at the men behind her.

"Oh…" was all that came out of Will's mouth, but Hannibal watched Charlie's shoulders tense, then they started to shake. "I'll te…" Will stopped when Hannibal shook his head, and it occurred to him that Hannibal probably heard Jack. "I'll take care of it Jack… Hannibal? Yeah here he is."

Hannibal took the phone with a frown. "Jack?" Hannibal questioned.

" _What kind of parents were the D'Amores?"_ Jack asked from the lawn. He'd been inside, but he walked back out to talk to Will and Hannibal. There was too much going on in there. _"The wall says_ bad parents _on it."_

"They were good people I can't imagine they were any different as parents. Lily worried a lot, Heath was laidback, they evened each other out," Hannibal explained even as he moved a little to see Charlie bent over in his chair her hands once more over her mouth as she cried. She was trying to be quiet. When Will looked at him, silently questioning if he should do something, Hannibal shook his head. It wouldn't do either of them any good. Will might get trapped in some other headspace. Charlie would be compelled to try and make Will feel better if he appeared too awkward and it'd just put more stress on her.

" _Has their daughter, Charlotte ever complained about them?"_ Jack questioned as he watched an officer walk into the building before running back out to throw up behind a bush. He sighed away from the phone.

"No, Charlie never spoke ill of them," Hannibal breathed as a sob squeaked past her fingers. "Jack, I need to get off the phone and talk to her. Do you want to speak with Will?"

Jack rubbed his hand over his face, _"Sorry, I realize she's in the room, yeah, give Will back the phone."_

"Please go out into the waiting room to talk with Jack," Hannibal said handing Will back his cell. Will nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Once he did he walked over to kneel beside her. He watched her for a moment before lacing his fingers into her hair as he said, "Charlie I'm sorry…"

"Stop! Stop it! I know they're dead!" Charlie cried her hands leaving her mouth to wrap around her stomach. "It's my fault!"

"It's not your fault," Hannibal told her as he stood up and coaxed her out of the chair. It took a moment to get her back in his hold. She was shaking, and holding onto him tightly. "You'll be okay." She wouldn't respond, but she fought to regain her control. Will came back into the room after a few minutes, but he didn't say anything. He walked over to the small couch against the wall and sat down.

"I'm ruining your suit," Charlie sighed against him when she felt like she wasn't going to make any more horrible noises while she cried. Charlie noticed Will then when he snorted as he tried to hold in a chuckle. Looking up at Hannibal she found him caught between amusement and bewilderment.

"I suppose it's the little things," Will hummed earning himself a hiccup from Charlie. Only he couldn't decide if she was holding back a laugh or a sob.

"Some tears and wrinkling is hardly ruining my suit," Hannibal told her as he shot Will a look that insisted he wasn't helping. He was sure she was about to laugh, but now she was back on the verge of tears. Will gave a sheepish smile before sitting back more and frowning.

"Still," Charlie gasped in a breath as she let him go to swipe at her cheeks and eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie.

Hannibal watched her hands disappear into her sleeves, and for moment took in how little she was. Not just her age, her size. She was almost done growing considering her age, but she was so small. Just over five feet maybe… He touched her hair once more before he turned to Will asking, "What does Jack want us to do?"

"Wait for the police, they're going to escort us to your house," Will explained. "I need to check out the house, and Jack wants you nearby. This way if you need to see something in the house we can leave someone with Charlie, but you can resume watching her after."

Charlie was quiet for a moment before moved so she was at Hannibal's elbow, and asked, "Are my parents… in any state to see? To say goodbye?"

Will was frozen to his spot as he looked at the girl peeking around Hannibal. Will's gaze flicked up to the other man before he shook his head tightly, "You don't want to see them…"

Hannibal frowned. Will didn't want to see them, which meant that it was worse than the other crime scenes. Looking back at Charlie he found her gripping his sleeve once more. Her tears were silent now…

* * *

Yup lookie lookie I did two updates in one day! Yeah now that this has kind of unraveled I can say this is what changed so drastically. I was going to keep Charlie's parents alive until after the ballet, but the longer they lived the more and more obvious it was that Hannibal knew before he was supposed to. I even wrote out the whole ballet scene, but when her parents died after that all I could see is Will standing there looking at him insisting that he _KNEW and he just let Charlie's parents die_.

While that might have been entertaining it wasn't what I wanted. (I'm still working on what I want to do with Will, but that wasn't it.)

So here we go. I know I mentioned the ballet a lot and now it's not happening, but that's what happens in real life I suppose. You make plans that you're dead set on, and then horrible things happen and your plans fall through...

I hope this is all alright still, and that it doesn't seem completely disjointed. Please let me know what you think! Please!

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **city bookworm:** Can I just say thank you for replying so often! You're awesome. Yeah Charlie doesn't know what Hannibal's anger entails, so she doesn't know that she rather he just be disappointed. There's a difference between some silence and a disapproving look, and him taking her over his knee. She'll figure it out. Like I said above, yeah, now the ballet isn't going to happen, but this is all going to explode in a different way. My plans changed A LOT. I hope it still works out. If I go back to edit this I'll make it less of a big deal... Gah, I hope this works out!


	7. It's A Shame

Hannibal set Charlie up with a cup of tea in the armchair in the corner of his kitchen, and even put extra milk and sugar in when she requested some. Will was across the street, Jack was watching from the entrance to the kitchen as he finished up making sure Charlie was comfortable. Hannibal replaced the fruit bowl with the tray containing the teapot as well as a little jug of milk and the sugar bowl, telling her to help herself. Jack had gone through a mix of emotions at breakneck speed when first seeing Charlie. Suspicion to sympathy, and some in-between.

Now Jack Crawford had settled somewhere in the family of pity. They both knew she was too old to really be a child, but she was not old enough to really be an adult either. She was the muddy middle ground no one wanted to tread. Hannibal would be sure to express his willingness to tread such ground to whichever of her guilted relatives eventually showed up to try and claim her. Some social worker somewhere around here was granting him temporary custody of her to keep her out of a foster home, eventually he'd have to sign something. Close family friend he and Charlie had said in the same breath. The man didn't seem to care beyond the fact that he wouldn't have to make a bunch of calls to get her into a house tonight. There was another person off trying to inform Charlie's grandmother about the death of Heath and Lily. Somehow, he doubted the first thing out of the woman would be _"Who's watching Charlie"_ from how Charlie had reacted to her grandmother even just watching her for the weekend. Someone else was probably looking for a will to see if someone had been appointed as her guardian. Heath and Lily probably hadn't thought that far ahead though.

"What did she have to say about the victims?" Jack asked once they were in the hall, far enough that low voices wouldn't carry.

"The students bullied her to varying degrees. The girl tried to spread a rumor about her, but Charlie flies so low under the radar that no one really cared. The boys who lived next to her, would bump into her in the halls, slam her locker shut just after she got it open. The other boys were much the same. She said the wrestler grabbed her inappropriately once. She doesn't understand why her math teacher is dead, she liked him. I think it might have been because math isn't something she's very proficient at and Lane thought she was being treated unfairly," Hannibal ran through the first murders.

"A man is dead because she was bad at math?" Jack asked as he brushed his hand over his head.

That thought had sent Charlie into another bought of sobbing in the car when Will had asked about Mr. Fuller. Taking a breath Hannibal added, "Charlie said he told her she was perfect, and it probably got to him that her favorite teacher was someone who openly admitted otherwise."

"It probably killed him that she gave Fuller a gift," Jack sighed. "So, he took it."

"Me and Will think so, he probably just didn't notice her other painting in the office afterward or he would have taken that one too," Hannibal nodded. "She loves her parents though. She can't think of a reason that he'd call them bad parents."

"Can you?" Jack asked crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to his other foot. He was wondering how bad of a life this kid had behind the nice front door of her large house.

"Perhaps because of me," Hannibal admitted. "Charlie was coming to talk to me two nights a week for a month, but we were just testing the waters to appease her mother. I didn't charge them anything because it was just a favor, if Charlie decided she wanted to seriously go to therapy I was going to offer my suggestions to her parents. I couldn't be her therapist living right across the street." It would hopefully give Jack a reason to not ask Charlie about her therapy. Here he was openly admitting that's not what it was.

"Her parents are dead because they were seeing if she needed help…" Jack let his arms fall.

"Possibly. They were leaving for a week, I was going to check in on Charlie while they were gone. Lily invited me to the ballet because she wanted someone to sit with Charlie because Heath couldn't make it," Hannibal listed off the other reasons her parents were probably dead. They were also the reasons he might be next. Jack was looking at him hard now, and Hannibal knew it was clicking into place.

"You could be next," Jack said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Especially with her in your house now."

"I'm aware," Hannibal agreed. Unfortunately, now the man couldn't just disappear. Too many people would be looking for him, someone could draw the lines too easily. Charlie would be here now. She wasn't ready to cover for him like that. Jail would have to be the answer. An unsatisfying answer, but an answer just the same.

"We're already going to have the twenty-four-hour protective detail, but perhaps you should close your practice for a few days…" Jack suggested. "If someone claims her I'll make sure you both have one."

"I'll get started on calling my patients," Hannibal nodded. He'd take the week to see if this could be settled quickly.

Hannibal's front door opened then and Zeller yelled back, "Will is done! He asked for Dr. Lecter!"

Then the social worker pushed passed Zeller insisting, "Hey buddy, I got all the paper work for the kid. I just need some initials and signatures."

Hannibal slowly blinked filing away the want to find the social worker later. "Tell Will I'll be a moment," Hannibal said as he waved the social worker further into the house.

oOo

"He burned all the presents for her parents… He took hers…" Will said when Hannibal and Jack walked up next to him as he looked over the Christmas tree. "It's likely that he took some of her clothes, he went in her room… perhaps some other things she'd notice missing, but not me. Maybe have the photographers take pictures of her room to see so we don't have to bring her in here."

Hannibal took in the horror that was the living room as he asked, "Is her violin here somewhere?" There was blood everywhere. The bodies were only now being covered since Will was finished looking around. It didn't stop Hannibal from seeing that Lily was cut almost in half across her stomach before the man put down the sheet. He could tell by the positioning that Heath's head was detached from his body. The blood staining the carpet suggested there was more damage under the sheets.

Will looked towards the room, no doubt picturing it in his mind. "It wasn't in her room," Will shook his head after a moment. "He went in there after. There are footprints everywhere. Like a map." One he didn't need, but he didn't say that. "He's ready to show her everything. He's ready to take her."

"Hannibal, why don't you have a look around and tell us if you notice anything," Jack sighed as he moved away from the Christmas tree and looked around the rest of the room. "Let's go see her room." He called after one of the photographers to finish up and get up to the bedroom to take pictures for Charlie to tell them what was gone.

"Alright," Hannibal nodded. He walked up the stairs avoiding the footprints bled into the carpet. Followed Will and Jack as he took in the walls. There was a handprint smeared near the top that someone was trying to lift fingerprints from. Once in her room he took in the red and black bedding, and furniture. The glass desk, the black music stand. Her violin was missing, case and all. There were posters on the wall from movies and comics. Disney pictures. A worn black bear was on the ground next to the bed. He looked around again before saying, "Unless it's in the car her backpack is missing, along with her violin like Will said." He walked over to the desk, some textbooks and a binder were piled on it, probably to make room in her backpack. There was a little vase with pens in it. He noticed some fine-liners. "I've never been in Charlie's room before this, but I know she enjoys art, only I don't see any art supplies."

Maybe he'd let her redecorate the room he gave her. This was a good precursor to what he should expect from her when he gave her the room. He could live with it. Maybe introduce her to a finer example of wall décor, but otherwise the room was acceptable. He would replace her violin, and art supplies so she'd have something to open on Christmas. While Hannibal didn't usually participate in Christmas passed gifting a few people with a bottle of wine, he'd make an exception for Charlie.

"He took things that would make her comfortable," Jack nodded. "Things to keep her busy. Calm."

"He didn't take pictures though, doesn't look like he took any knickknacks, or her stuffed animal," Hannibal said looking around closer at the shelves and walls to make sure he wasn't missing an empty spot. Her room wasn't tossed around, or made a mess of. It'd be obvious if something was gone that had a fixed spot.

"He wants her to be comfortable, but he wants to be the only one to comfort her," Will explained, as he looked down at the bear on the floor. "He doesn't want her to be able to comfort herself with a bear or a picture. He wants to make her feel better."

"So, she'll bond with him," Hannibal nodded, "Somewhere she can't run away, like she could at school."

Jack looked around too, saying, "Well wherever that was, it wasn't his apartment. It's empty. We got someone looking into any other places he or his family owns."

Hannibal frowned. Things couldn't be that easy that he'd just go back to his own apartment. Things were never that easy.

"He'll come for her," Will said it first.

"He might come for Hannibal first," Jack frowned, letting Will in on what they figured out. "He was going to go to the ballet with Charlie at the request of her mother. She was seeing him every week. He's probably twisted that."

Hannibal didn't mention Charlie liking him. Wouldn't do that to her.

"Well for right now they'll be in the same house," Will said as he looked over at Hannibal. Jack nodded, but before they could continue someone in the hall called him out to deal with something or another. Once they were alone he asked, "Are you going to tell Charlie?"

"No," Hannibal shook his head, "She probably knows deep down, but I won't confront her with it. That would only make her feel worse." She was anxious enough. She'd looked like he was abandoning her when he told her the officer would be watching her.

Will looked uncomfortable for a moment before looked around saying, "She's a good kid, it's a shame this happened to her."

Hannibal held back a smile, and instead merely nodded. He'd find a way to give Will the chance to see Charlie on occasion. It'd be interesting to see them interact when there wasn't murder involved. Before they could continue the photographer came in.

oOo

"Charlie…" Hannibal called out to her softly as he opened the door to his den. It'd taken a while to get back. He kept getting pulled into conversations about the killer, asked questions about the victims, and the photographer took his sweet time. Things were winding down over there though, and he'd be able to call it a night as soon as she told them what was missing from her room. The photographer put the pictures of her room onto one of their laptops, so she wouldn't accidently stumble across a picture of her parents' bodies.

Charlie looked up at him for a moment, before looking back down at her lap as she mumbled, "He just kept staring at me. I couldn't sit there anymore after he asked me for the fourth time if I was okay."

Hannibal sighed as he sat the laptop down on his desk. Of course, she wasn't alright, her parents had just been murdered. Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before he walked over and kneeled in front of her. He gripped her knee as he said, "It's okay, you're allowed to be in here. I need you to look at some pictures of your room though."

Charlie bit her lip at that before asking, "What's wrong with it?"

"We think there are some things missing from your room, and we need you to tell us what they are," Hannibal said standing back up. "You might see some bloody footprints on the carpet, but nothing happened in your room."

Struggling to count to ten, to keep calm, Charlie stared at her hands for a long time. After she got to ten she nodded and stood up. _Nothing happened in my room,_ Charlie repeated to herself in her head forcing herself not to imagine how much blood was needed to leave behind footprints all the way up to her room. She could look at her room if nothing happened in there. She was vaguely aware of Hannibal leading her around his desk. He sat her down, and opened the laptop pulling up the folder with the pictures of her room.

"Just use the arrows," Hannibal said as he pulled out a pad of paper, and a pen. "Tell me anything that's different, or missing."

Charlie frowned as she looked at the first picture, it was just a picture from the doorway, it was hard to tell if something was different. The walls looked the same, her bed. She went to the next photo, but it was just of her bed… "Was there a black bear?"

"It fell on the floor, perhaps it's in another picture," Hannibal frowned.

Charlie shook her head, even though she felt really foolish. "That's my favorite… you know childhood stuffed animal. He was in the middle of the bed. H-it didn't just fall off… I took care of that bear, I didn't even take him out of the house 'cause I was afraid to lose him…"

Hannibal wrote down that the bear was moved, decided he'd tell Katz to try and get it back to Charlie as soon as she could. He could understand wanting to keep certain things from childhood…

She clicked passed the next page because it did show her bear on the floor. The next picture was her book shelf. "There's a stack of books missing… I keep the ones I haven't read on top…"

Hannibal wrote it down and watched her click through the pictures of her walls, the space in front of the window. Another shelf with figures and pictures on it.

Then it was her music stand, "My violin was sitting on the floor. There was a music book on the stand…"

Hannibal nodded, wrote what she said was missing, but kept an eye on her face. She was misty eyed, and kept swiping at her cheeks. Charlie kept going though, and he didn't stop her.

"Those books and folders were in my bag," Charlie mumbled when she got to her desk. "My laptop is missing… my sketchbooks and a pencil bag that had some colored pencils in it… and a hard black pencil box with pens are all gone…"

Hannibal wrote quickly what she was missing, also keeping a mental note of what he'd need to buy her.

"My backpack was under the desk…" Charlie continued as she clicked to the next picture. She was silent though a few more. Nothing out of place in them. Then it came to her closet… She worked her canine against her lower lip, "Some of the clothes that were on the empty hangers are missing. We just did laundry, I had to take my hangers downstairs, there weren't any empty ones in there. My dress for the ballet tomorrow is gone… it was red, with a sweetheart neck… came to just above my knees… mom bugged me and bugged me to pick it… and it was your favorite color so I did… It was hanging on the inside edge of the closet, not in with the other clothes…"

Hannibal frowned as he noticed how hard she was biting herself. He went to stop her but she yelped, her hands flying to her mouth. He moved her back from the desk with the use of the wheels on the bottom of the chair and moved her hands, his fingers closing around her wrists. Blood trickled down her chin and he snatched the pocket square from his jacket to catch the blood before it got to her clothes. "Hold this to your lip," Hannibal insisted as he jotted down that some clothes were gone and a red formal dress was missing. He glanced at the number of pictures _49/50_. "One more picture and then I'll get you cleaned up…" Hannibal said looking towards her.

Charlie nodded as she held the soft material to her lips. He hit the arrow button, glancing at Charlie as it showed the bottom of her closet. He could see her staring hard, but at first not at the contents of the closet. Instead her eyes were on the red foot prints on the ground in front of it. Hannibal touched her shoulder and she refocused. Moving the square away Charlie muttered, "Some black boots are missing, they were going to go with the dress…"

Hannibal wrote it down before he stood her up and led her from the room. He motioned to the photographer to get the things, "The computer is there, and take the list next to it. That's everything she could see missing."

The man looked like he wanted to ask if everything was alright, but Hannibal didn't really give him a chance. He led Charlie to the kitchen where he kept a small first aid kit in case of kitchen accidents. When he had dinner parties other people helped him prepare food, and things happened. It was easier to have things on hand down here than to trudge upstairs for the better one he kept in his bathroom.

Charlie followed to the back of the kitchen where a larger sink with one of those faucets you could pull down was. She stood next to him as he pulled out a kit from under the sink, still holding the fabric to her mouth like he instructed. She couldn't help but notice it smelled like him… Like spice and something deep… Her thoughts cut off as he lifted her up onto the counter next to the sink. She gasped, not expecting it. Hannibal smiled at her, before washing his hands.

When he took the fabric from her Charlie apologized, "I'm sorry I'm ruining everything you're wearing today."

"Don't worry Charlie, cooking comes with some deal of mess. I've become quite adept at removing blood from my clothing," Hannibal explained as he took an alcohol wipe from the container, opening it. "Open your mouth a bit," Hannibal instructed before he cleaned the area. "Try not to lick your lips." He opened another one and cleaned her lip again as well as her chin before he opened a pad of gauze and had her hold that to her lip instead. "It's still bleeding a bit, hold that there."

"Hannibal?!" Will called out as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Yes Will?" Hannibal asked as he turned to find Will moving into the kitchen, his body leaning this way and that to see Charlie.

"What's wrong here?" Will asked as found Charlie holding gauze to her lip.

"I'm fine!" she squeaked out, embarrassed of herself.

Will looked at Hannibal significantly less sure then Charlie was trying to seem.

"She'll be okay, she bit into her lip a little is all," Hannibal said as he looked to Charlie who looked a bit ashamed. "We'll have to discuss better ways of dealing with stress."

"I… well as long as everything's alright, Jack wanted me to let you know we're all wrapping up over there, and heading out," Will said as he rubbed the back of his head. "There's a squad car across the street," Will said fishing a card out of his pocket, "Here's the number to get officers in the car, if for some reason there's trouble they don't notice."

Hannibal took the card nodding, "Thank you Will."

"No problem," Will nodded back.

"Jack told me to stop my practice for a bit, but you're welcome to stop by here if you need to talk. Give me some notice and I'll set you a place at the dinner table," Hannibal offered as he watched the other man.

"Thank you, Hannibal," Will nodded, "I'll give you a call this week." Then after a moment he hummed "I'll see you both later."

"Will," Hannibal nodded.

"Bye Mr. Graham," Charlie called out the best she could while still following directions and keeping the gauze to her lip.

oOo

The distraction of hurting herself ran its course once her and Hannibal found themselves in front of his TV. He had it in a compartment behind a bookshelf for the rare times he chose to use it. Sometimes films were worth it, it was always handy to have a few basic news stations. With smart TVs it was easier to get only the things he wanted so he'd bought one a while ago. She signed in with her own amazon account and Hannibal found himself indulging her as she watched an anime about a wizard in a moving castle.

It was tollerable.

Unfortunately, he found Charlie crying only ten minutes in. She was sitting stiffly next to him, even though she was trying to hide it by pressing against the armrest, trying not to make too much noise. He wasn't highly invested in the movie, though if she wanted he would continue watching it with her, so he pulled her against his side. He gently wrapped an arm around her, and let her lean into him.

Charlie was thankful that Hannibal had excused himself to put on a sweater in place of his button-up and jacket no matter how many times he told her she wasn't ruining his clothes. He told her he'd find her something to wear when she was ready to go to sleep, and tomorrow they'd buy her some things. She knew she was crying for her parents again, but she wished she could stop. She hated crying. It was making her feel horrible and Hannibal was being nice enough to watch this movie with her, even though she got the strict impression that he didn't spend his spare time watching TV let alone movies, and she was ruining that too. She just wanted to stop being a bother.

After a while longer, Charlie trying to seek shelter more fully against his side, Hannibal captured her legs pulling them across his lap. She settled some more and eventually she relaxed back into the movie. He drew swirling patterns against her shins with one hand. The other was securely wrapped around her shoulders.

oOo

Hannibal glanced down at Charlie just as the movie ended to see that she had fallen asleep. She'd been dozing off and on, but she kept jerking herself back awake. He had to hold her tighter when she'd wake up, her heartbeat would quicken, and she'd try to pull away. The first time Charlie had almost fallen from his lap onto the floor. Now he let his fingers play along her arm as he watched her face. She was whimpering softly, and squirming around. "Charlie," he coaxed gently. "Charlie wake up…"

Charlie gasped as she woke up, wrapping her arms around herself. She held her breath trying not cry out again. Hannibal brushed his fingers into her hair, getting her to look at him, but she couldn't say anything. Only when he went to speak she whimpered, "Please don't make me go upstairs…" The last time she'd jerked herself awake Hannibal had tried to suggest she go upstairs to bed.

"You need to get some real sleep," Hannibal told her as he let her crawl from his lap. As though that would stop him from taking her upstairs.

"I don't want to go to sleep," Charlie insisted as she rubbed at her face. Every time she fell asleep something horrible happened. To her parents, to her, to Hannibal.

Hannibal sighed as he stood up, holding a hand out for her, "Let's get some tea," Hannibal offered, "We'll discuss this further." He really didn't want to have to drug her, just in case something happened. He didn't want her to be too gone to run away, but he'd think about it. After a moment she took his hand, standing up. If he had to he'd set her up with another movie and get her to lay down and watch it. Something to get her to calm down and sleep...

She needed to rest before something happened. Something was bound to happen. It was just a matter of when.

* * *

Here we go! Fun things to come! It'll be awesome.

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **city bookworm:** Oh no I'm good with these long reviews, they make me happy. And If I could stay up all night I would, but alas I work all week so late posts are a weekend luxury when I don't have to get up the next day. I meant to reply to you sooner this time, but I kept getting sidetracked. If you want to send me a private message with your email, or something along those lines I'll send you the chapters I was going to use as attachments, there were a few. If you're not comfortable with that I can send them to you in a couple messages I suppose.

As for ending the parents, yeah. It really came down to Will _knowing_ what was really going on. He's not allowed to know yet, so I made it so he doesn't. They're still lying about when she told him, and her having to tell Will that she forgot to tell him the picture was there last chapter probably helped that along.

I hope to give Charlie a little more depth as this goes on, have her interact with Hannibal more. She hadn't intended to talk to him, but they started the game and she _knew_ it wasn't an option to stop playing. She knew she wasn't allowed to lie. Even if she didn't know exactly what would happen should she have done something like that. Now she's attached to him, and I'm glad you think it's realistic at least to some degree. Her family life outside of her parents will come to light, and it might explain more about Charlie...


	8. Deserving

Frowning Charlie fidgeted with the bottom of the sweater she was wearing as she looked at herself in the mirror. Over tea Hannibal convinced her to change into something to sleep in, but she hadn't been given the chance to get anything from her house. That left clothes Hannibal was willing to give her. The pajama pants he offered her were far too long, though if she tightened them enough they did fit around the waist. The sweater itself did go down to about mid-thigh. That was long enough right?

…She definitely looked like she'd been crying for hours…

Tugging the sweater a bit more Charlie decided it wasn't indecent and she better get out of the bathroom soon. Hannibal might start to think there was something wrong… more wrong… She still didn't want to sleep, but she couldn't hold his bathroom hostage forever.

Was it wrong to walk around in only a barrowed shirt and some underwear in the house of a man you liked, but was far too old for you?

Probably…

Shaking her head Charlie decided she didn't care. She doubted Hannibal was going to eyeball her legs.

Opening the door, and holding out the pajama pants, Charlie mumbled, "The pants were too long…"

Hannibal nodded as he took them and folded them on the end of his bed, "That's fine Charlie." He would just wear them when he went to sleep later. Though, he doubted later would be any time soon. It was obvious that Charlie was still denying that she needed any sleep. "Are you sure you won't go to sleep? I can give you your own room."

Charlie shook her head quickly. She didn't want to be asleep and she really didn't want to be alone. "Just a little longer?" Charlie pleaded.

He looked down at her, for a long moment. She looked small and vulnerable in his sweater. Her fingers barely peeking out the bottom of his sleeves, one leg hiding behind the other. "Come, I'll let you pick another movie," Hannibal offered as he held out his hand to her.

Charlie reached out, taking his hand. She wondered if he liked to touch her or if he was afraid she wouldn't follow him. Still, his hand was warm, and he made her feel safe.

oOo

Hannibal intended to make her comfortable enough to fall asleep, so instead of starting out on opposite sides of the couch, he sat sideways and held her to his chest. His leg pillowed her back, and she leaned into him easily. He was careful not to try to lull her to sleep. She squirmed when he had tried to rub her back. Charlie was keenly aware that he wanted her to sleep when she didn't want to.

This movie was more to his taste. The latest movie remake of Les Miserables. He'd seen the movie, and had even enjoyed it, and it made him wonder if she picked it with him in mind. He'd ask another time though. The movie was doing a decent enough job of lulling her to sleep even at the more exciting parts.

Charlie tried not to fall asleep. She really did enjoy the musical, even if she had as Hannibal suspected picked it for him. She knew he was on to her, but she wasn't exactly going to try and take it back. Instead she committed to it. The only problem was that Hannibal had unknowingly found her weakness the moment he let her pick of movie. It was how her mother had put her to sleep as a child on those nights where she couldn't, or wouldn't, go to sleep. She could still remember her mother laying out the rules. _"We'll watch one movie, you will lay down and you will fall asleep before the end of the movie."_

Even when she tried Charlie had only succeeded in making it to the credits once or twice as a child. Laying down wasn't an option, it was a requirement not to be sent up to her room to deal with her lack of sleep on her own. The familiar movies lulled her to sleep though. Charlie supposed that was what had mattered. When she got older, she did it for herself. Played a movie to fall asleep to, set the sleep timer for how long she thought it'd take her to knock off.

Now she kept jerking herself awake… Hannibal kept petting her hair when she would. He'd settle her, but she didn't want to sleep. What if something happened when she was sleeping? What if something happened to Hannibal?

oOo

Hannibal blinked open his eyes as Charlie whimpered against his chest. Turning his head, he found the second movie was over too, before looking down to find Charlie sleeping. When she made more insistent noises, he laced his fingers in her hair, his hand spanning the back of her head. He didn't want her to wake up now that she was finally asleep. He grumbled some pretty words hoping to calm her and keep her from waking herself up.

In the meantime, his other hand groped for the remote before he turned the TV off. Then, reaching back Hannibal dropped it, and he used his newly freed hand to rub her back. That seemed to work more. Once she settled he thought about moving her upstairs. Only he dismissed the idea because she'd no doubt wake if he picked her up. Then she'd try insisting she didn't need sleep again... Instead he just closed his eyes once more. They could sleep here.

She was a warm weight against him.

Not just one he was tolerating, but one he wanted there.

Charlie was a warm little life that was all his to keep.

oOo

Hannibal woke the second that warm little life wasn't in his hold anymore. He was on his feet to find, Charlie was crying, and struggling to get back to him. Lane was trying to calm her down, and get her to cooperate. "Let her go," Hannibal demanded, more to get the man's attention, and less because he thought it'd happen. He took the time to take the man in. Only slightly shorter then himself, dark hair, a slightly thicker build… Not average but not terribly remarkable. Charlie was giving him a bit of trouble, but maybe it was only because he didn't want to hurt her and didn't know how much pressure he could exact on her.

The man looked at him, his arm snuggly crooking around Charlie's neck to keep her in place. It didn't stop her from throwing her weight around though. He spoke with some difficulty from her struggles, "So you can… take advantage of her?!"

Hannibal focused on the man. He knew he'd adopted a stillness that made people uncomfortable, but now was not the time for the comfort of others. Anything anyone saw would be chalked up to the dire situation. Not the immense need he felt to dismember the man in front of him. "Let. Her. Go." Hannibal repeated slowly.

"She's mine!" Lane yelled dragging her back towards the hall that led to the front of the house.

"No I'm not!" Charlie shouted doubling her efforts to get away. She didn't want to go with him. She couldn't go with him. Jerking her head back, Charlie connected with his chin, and his grip loosened just enough for her to slip under his arm. She ran forward and Hannibal captured her wrist nearly dragging her back further into the house in his haste. She looked back to find Mr. Lane pulling a large hunting knife from somewhere on the back of his belt.

Hannibal pulled her around the corner through the dining room and into the kitchen. He pushed her behind the island as he grabbed a butchers' knife from the block there. The stainless steel glinted as he held it out to show he was prepared to use it when the teacher came into the kitchen brandishing his own knife.

"Charlotte! You come here right now!" Lane shouted pointing at the ground at his feet. His eyes were on Hannibal though. Neither willing to give the other an opening.

Charlie shook her head, her hands clutching the collar of the sweater Hannibal gave her. Neither man was looking at her, but her voice was all caught up in her throat now. She couldn't force out anymore. It felt like she'd choke if she'd try. What if Hannibal looked at her and Lane took the chance to attack him. She couldn't say anything. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in.

"Charlotte, he just wants to hurt you," Lane continued.

"I'm not the one who orphaned her," Hannibal insisted as the man tried to edge around the island towards Charlie. It was one of the few things he could thank the man for really. Without him he might have been the one to orphan Charlie, then he'd have to try and get her to forgive him. This would be much more convenient in the long run. Hannibal advanced, and though he didn't look to see, Charlie was moving towards him away from her teacher.

"They weren't good for her! Sending her to the likes of you!" Lane shouted as he went to grab for Charlie, but she bolted around grabbing onto Hannibal who held her under his arm for a moment before nudging her behind him after he moved to face Lane once more. Narrowing his eyes on them Lane added, "I'll take care of her the way she deserves."

Charlie probably didn't _deserve_ either fate standing in the room with her. Hannibal would keep her though. When Lane went to say something else Hannibal lunged forward taking a swipe at the teacher, catching him across the chest.

As the fight progressed Charlie tried to stay out of the way, she retreated back behind the island when the fight moved them around. Both were cut before long. Charlie looked around for anything that might help her, but all she found was the phone missing off the receiver and the back door slightly ajar… Had the door been unlocked? Charlie bit her lip, but she'd watched Hannibal turn the handle herself. He'd done so just for her, and the door had been locked… before that officer had watched her. He smelled like smoke… had he taken a smoke break and then didn't lock the door behind him?

Not that it mattered now, if no one was knocking on the door yet then he was probably dead…

When she looked back at the fight Hannibal's knife was knocked away, and then Lane's was too. Then they were trading blows but when Hannibal was slammed into the counter he was given the chance to grab another knife…

Charlie, for a split second, was positive it was going to go in Lane's neck, but then there was frantic knocking at the front door. Someone shouting FBI and the knife was knocked from his hand sliding onto the counter. Something was wrong about it, but Charlie still bolted for the door just as Hannibal grabbed a metal pepper mill and managed to get Lane in the side of the head.

She got by and got to the door, getting it open just before someone slammed their foot home to break the door. Charlie wanted to shout for them to help Hannibal but nothing would come out as she pointed back towards the kitchen. It wasn't needed though they ran towards where she was pointing, and the noises of a fight were still sounding.

Jack Crawford came running up soon after the officers ran into the house. She was positive that he was going to ask her a question, and she wouldn't be able to answer him. Before he could, though, a shot rang through the house and Charlie was running back towards the sound even as Agent Crawford yelled for her not to. She got to the opening of the kitchen just in time for another shot to go off. She took a step back frowning as everyone looked at her. She just had time to wonder why they looked so horrified before Hannibal was in front of her, holding her arm in a vice like grip. Her arm burned, and it was then she realized she'd been shot.

Everyone was shouting and yelling. Hannibal was talking to her, but it took what felt like forever to understand.

" _You're going to be okay."_

Charlie looked down at where his hands were holding onto her. Blood was covering his hands starting to soak into the sweater. She didn't look okay. She looked back at him to see the tears in his own sweater. He didn't look okay.

" _Jack help me get her to the couch she's going into shock."_

She didn't understand why he was saying that until she realized she wasn't standing under her own power. Agent Crawford was holding her up under her arms. She wasn't standing on her own. Why wasn't she standing?

* * *

Sorry this took so long, I kept changing my mind about how I wanted to get through this part. Hopefully it worked out. After this things should be a little more smooth, or at least I plan for it to be that way.

 **REVIEW REPLIES:  
**

 **city bookworm:** I know, and I don't intend for them to suspect them, at least not for a good while. But yeah, I loved Abigail, but every time I wanted to write a fanfiction with her in it... to ya know save her... I couldn't because Jack took one look at her and went GUILTY! ... and then Freddie Lounds didn't help.. **.**

Anyway yeah, her family is going to come into play, but not too much. It's mostly going to serve as a way to show Charlie's past a little more. Give Hannibal a little more insight into why she reacts the way she does sometimes. Especially right now.

Charlie isn't good with stress, and it's kind of just stacking up. It happened fast, which these things sometimes do, but it's certainly keeping Will from looking at them too closely. Charlie didn't help out, but there wasn't much time besides Hannibal wouldn't want him to suddenly realize Charlie got the guy for him. It's sort of just pushing her closer and closer to Hannibal in any case. Which is showing Hannibal plenty. Also I hope you enjoyed the extra parts I sent you.

 **tibruce57:** I'm glad you like them! Thank you for the review!


	9. In and Out of the Hospital

"We're both going to be fine," Hannibal explained to Will, who had been too far to be of help at the house, but still came to make sure they were okay. Hannibal had been checked out, cleaned up, some bandages were applied, one wound was glued shut, but he was ready to go. Charlie's clothes from earlier today were waiting for her, so she could come home with him, but the doctors were taking more time with her.

Charlie was being given fluids, her wound was cleaned and bandaged. It was just too deep for their comfort, so she was stitched up. It would scar, but her recovery would be fast. It hadn't hit anything vital. Her symptoms of shock were more psychological, then do to the actual gunshot wound but they didn't want to take any chances. On top of it she wouldn't say anything to anyone. She managed a hum here and there, but she wouldn't talk. He'd told them she was allergic to penicillin, which he thankfully knew from her mother filling out paperwork at his office. She was fumbling through her own paperwork now.

Hannibal was keen to get her out of here after the doctor huffed about her _unwillingness_ to talk. Hannibal had been sure to make the doctor aware of her last twenty-four hours. Which got a hasty apology, and the doctor talking about releasing her soon. Hannibal would take her home and he'd get her to talk to him soon enough.

"Jack said Lane asked for a lawyer… they're going for an insanity defense" Will said as he stole glances at Charlie. She was working her lower lip as she concentrated on the paperwork she'd been presented with. Frowning deeply Will warned, "She's going to hurt herself again."

Hannibal's back straightened as he turned to look at her, "Charlotte." Her name came out clipped and she looked up at him wide eyed and released her lip immediately. Frowning he insisted, "Skip anything you don't know how to answer, and I'll help you when you're finished." She nodded before moving onto the next page. "Jack told us before he left for the night," Hannibal returned to their last conversation, "but he says it's doubtful there'll be much of a trial. They'll probably work out a deal"

Will made an agreeable noise, before he questioned, "She won't talk…?"

Hannibal shook his head slightly. Will frowned as he looked over to Charlie again, and worked his mouth. Hannibal smiled internally, instead he schooled his features, asking, "Will, I don't want to impose on you, but would you mind driving me and Charlie home? We both came in the ambulance, but Charlie should be released in the next hour or so." Only because he had a medical degree, and her doctor was disturbed by her silence. Still Hannibal knew Will wanted an excuse to stay. Maybe he'd get Charlie to talk.

Will nodded, "Of course. You're not imposing, it's not that far."

"Thank you," Hannibal did smile now.

"You're welcome," Will said before they both took seats next to Charlie's bed.

Charlie glanced at them as she tried to quickly finish all the paperwork that'd been dropped in her lap. If she could get it done before the IV finished Hannibal could probably take her home right away. When Will caught her eye she managed a bit of a smile. He seemed nice, and she didn't want to treat him poorly. Hannibal must have really liked him to ask him to take them home. After all Jack Crawford had offered and Hannibal had politely refused. That had been when they weren't sure when she'd be allowed to leave tonight… this morning, but still…

Hannibal smiled at Charlie when her gaze left Will and landed on him. She opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped and looked down at the paperwork again. He'd give it some time and see if she'd start up on her own.

oOo

Charlie watched Will as the nurse took out the IV, she didn't like seeing the needle go in and out of her skin. She'd looked at Hannibal the whole time they'd stitched up her arm. Will's eyes were on the nurse for a long moment, but when she claimed she was all done his eyes drifted to hers. Charlie bit the inside of her cheek when the nurse seemed to hover. Will offered, "Dr. Lecter will be back in a moment, he's getting us something to drink."

"Oh…" the nurse nodded, "I'll check on another patient and then I'll be right back. Since her paper work is done, we're prepared to release her. She can get into her own clothes if she likes as well."

"I'll let him know." Will nodded. He watched the nurse leave before looking back at Charlie. "Do you just not want to talk to them?"

Charlie's eyes widened before she shrugged a bit. She didn't really want to talk to them, but every time she opened her mouth to talk it felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room. She'd feel like her chest was constricting and like she'd never be able to talk again… She felt like she was still screaming that she didn't belong to Mr. Lane…

"He can't get you now," Will tried to assure her.

Charlie nodded that she understood. She wasn't sure, but it was what everyone was telling her. She didn't want to be unreasonable, but he was still somewhere, where he could potentially get out. He had been trying to kill Hannibal…

Will frowned, but then he knew what to say. "He can't get Hannibal either."

Charlie shrunk in on herself. She never should have told Hannibal about Mr. Lane in the first place. She should have never agreed to go and see him. It would have been enough to drive to school with him all that week. Maybe she wouldn't have started to like him so much… Maybe her parents would be alive… Even if they weren't she wouldn't be a burden for Hannibal…

Hannibal walked in right then and Charlie focused on the bed she was on. Will looked guilty about something. Hannibal handed Will his coffee and decided the younger man had tried to make her feel better and it didn't quite work. When he handed Charlie her iced tea she gave him a wobbly smile and nodded.

"They said they were going to release her, that she could get dressed," Will offered after taking a drink.

"That's good," Hannibal nodded as he looked between them. He'd get Charlie to talk to him at home, and then invite Will to dinner so he could see her talking again…

oOo

Charlie curled in on herself as Will drove them home. Hannibal sat in the front seat, but she wished that he had sat in the back with her. Her arm hurt, sure, but the worst part was that it was all her fault. All of this. Everything. She just wanted to lean into him. That was all. Instead she looked out the window at the passing lights… in an hour or so the sun would come up…

Will and Hannibal talked a little, but not much, everyone was tired. Hannibal offered to let Will have a guest room, but Will had dodged around it as politely as possible saying that the coffee would keep him going till Wolftrap. When Will asked about it Hannibal said he wouldn't open his practice up until after Christmas since he already canceled his appointments. Will was invited to dinner Wednesday barring any investigation that might take him out of town…

Hannibal looked back at Charlie about halfway through the, admittedly short, trip to find her huddled against the door. Her eyes firmly out the window, her hood up. She'd caught him watching her in the beginning and now she wouldn't look at him. Glancing over at Will Hannibal knew he was uncomfortable, no doubt because of a mix of not getting Charlie to feel better, and him offering to let him spend the night. It'd been innocent enough, but Will had still looked as shocked as if he'd offered to let him share his bed. It'd been amusing to say the least. Charlie had watched them curiously when it happened, he'd noticed, but he couldn't continue making Will uncomfortable just to get Charlie out of her shell. It'd destroy Will's fragile budding trust in him, and it'd be just as disappointing as Charlie's trust in him being shaken. Now was not the time where he could use one game to further the other. Charlie's wellbeing would have to take president.

Getting her back to sleep would no doubt be a chore.

oOo

Hannibal watched her as she walked out of the bathroom once more. This time she wore one of his white under shirts. Somehow the tee made her look even smaller than his sweater had. Perhaps because she wore that oversized hoodie all the time… He'd gotten into his own pajama's while she'd been in there. Now it was just a matter of getting her to sleep. He was sure staying with her would get her to sleep the fastest. When she walked over to him, his shirt sliding off one of her shoulders, he pulled her to him. "Let's go to sleep." He coaxed gently.

Charlie shook her head against him, even if it was hard to open her eyes back up after. She couldn't sleep. How could she sleep? After everything… He'd send her into one of his guest rooms and she'd be all alone. She didn't want to be alone.

"Do you want your own room?" Hannibal asked, knowing this was fairly dangerous ground. He knew she wouldn't want to leave. He wanted her to be able to sleep on her own, and this was not the way to foster that.

Charlie shook her head, holding onto him harder, even if her whole arm hurt for it.

"I'll let you stay in here," Hannibal offered, "but you have to close your eyes and go to sleep." He was not one to kid himself or he would have insisted to her that it was only for tonight. He'd get to keep her this time. Wouldn't have to be prepared for the man coming to take her. She was his now. After all there was a difference between wanting her to be able to sleep without him, and wanting her to do it every night. He wanted there to be nights where she came crawling into bed with him, or even just started there.

Charlie didn't know if she should accept, but in the end, she nodded.

When she finally nodded Hannibal brushed his fingers through her hair, telling her, "Get in bed, I'll get the light."

She watched him walk away, but she still moved over to the bed. She wasn't sure what to do. Of course she knew how to get in bed, but this wasn't hers. This was Hannibal's bed… Frowning she carefully pulled the covers down and sat on the edge just before Hannibal turned out the light. There was still some light filtering into the room, but she was still surprised when Hannibal walked in front of her. He gripped her chin smiling at her in the dark.

"Lay down," Hannibal said letting go of her chin to pet her hair. She did as he asked and he pulled the covers up around her before he moved around to the other side to get in beside her. She laid on her back for a little bit before she rolled over onto her side to face him. He coaxed her into shuffling closer before he moved the sleeve of his shirt up to inspect her wound. It was fine. He'd be able to take the stitches out himself instead of going to a different doctor. He righted the sleeve before cupping her cheek lightly as she looked up at him.

"I'm… sorry…" Charlie breathed slowly.

Hannibal carefully moved down more so he was eye to eye with her. At least she had talked. "What is it you're sorry for?" Hannibal asked coaxingly.

Charlie avoided looking him in the eye by focusing on the hollow of his throat. "Involving you."

"I involved myself," Hannibal insisted brushing his finger up into her hair. "I could have just as easily told your mother no, or told the police when it turned out you were being harassed."

A frown caught Charlie's lips. She hadn't had to talk to the police yet. Hannibal had gotten her out of it, with the promise that as soon as she started talking again he'd bring her in to have her statement taken. What was she supposed to say though? "You were going to stab him… but when the police got there you let him knock the knife from your hand…" Charlie insisted as she looked up at him.

Hannibal couldn't help the toothy smile that spread across his face. "Really now?" Hannibal asked as he watched her in the limited light. Her eyes pulled down from his to focus on his mouth.

"If the police hadn't knocked, you'd have killed him… huh?" Charlie asked hesitantly. Maybe it was just the light, but it seemed like his teeth were gleaming and sharp.

"You were not leaving this house with him," Hannibal said before his look softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"What did you say to the police… about what happened?" Charlie asked pulling away to look at him.

"About that particular moment?" Hannibal asked his own question mellowly. When she nodded he leaned up on his elbow to look down at her to ask, "What are you going to say?"

Charlie thought about it for a long moment before she sunk down onto her belly, "You managed to grab another knife, but it was knocked from your hand when the police started knocking at the door…"

"You didn't even repeat yourself," Hannibal praised as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I don't want anyone to think you did something wrong," Charlie insisted. She didn't want to be taken from him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I told them I got another knife from the block, but he knocked it from my grasp. I was surprised by the police at the door." Hannibal told her as he laid back down rubbing her back now that it was presented to him. "You tell them just what you told me."

"Can you wait to tell them I started talking, until after tomorrow?" Charlie asked turning her head to look at him.

"Yes, I can do that for you Charlie," Hannibal breathed as he drew patterns over her back. He'd enjoy his first day with her all to himself.

* * *

Here we go! Now they're on their own. We'll see what happens next!

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

 **Lady El Bass:** Thank you for reading! I'm enjoying it too! Though I always flip-flop between my writing concerning muse.

 **city bookworm:** Hannibal did get some wounds, and Charlie is ultimately okay, and I struggled with what to do, but this was the best mix I could decide on. She was shot, but it was just a graze. Hannibal was hurt but he just needed some patching up.

He's her safety net yes, and the relatives are going to come into play very soon, if not in the next chapter. Charlie's relatives are... just woeful... is all I can really say without giving any of the fun away.

As for what happened to Lane I'll explain it here because I know it's extremely unclear and while I intend to fit it in it won't ruin anything to just tell you. Lane and Hannibal were still fighting when the police flooded in, and they crashed into an officer coming into the scene. In the confusion Lane got the gun and tried to shoot Hannibal, but Hannibal managed to push the gun up, then when he tried to shoot again it hit Charlie. Lane dropped the weapon then, apparently devastated and was arrested. So yes that's what happened.

 **SeraphineWhist:** Eee I'm glad you like story, and my character for it. I did like Abigail in the series, but I felt like she kept making the wrong choices! Like, who in their right mind talks to Freddie Lounds? Will certainly wasn't in his right mind when he agreed to be interviewed by her! Anyway! Yes thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy my writing!

 **SamMason666:** Thanks!

 **Jokerlover13:** Thank you for reading! I aim to please!


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